


Finding His Way

by fiona_cat2004



Series: Finding His Way [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Not Canon Compliant, Past Rape/Non-con, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:54:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22688074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiona_cat2004/pseuds/fiona_cat2004
Summary: The Mandalorian needs help with his adopted child. An impulsive decision may end up changing his whole life.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Finding His Way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676830
Comments: 18
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction, so please be kind! This is my own little vision of how things could play out for our favorite space dad and his kid. Cameo appearances by original trilogy characters in later chapters (and one sequel character cameo). My knowledge of Star Wars lore comes from having seen the original trilogy, sequel trilogy and season 1 of The Mandalorian, supplemented by some quick internet research. Most planets, etc. are just made up.

The Mandalorian made his way through the crowded streets of Crata Frin, a town that he’d thought would be a quiet backwater. He probably would have had better luck finding the supplies he needed in a larger town, but ever since the encounter with Moff Gideon on Nevarro, he was trying to keep as low a profile as possible. Well, as low a profile as a fully armored Mandalorian could keep. For some reason, the small town was swarming with people. He’d been lucky to find a place to land less than half a mile from the outskirts; not too many off-world ships, but plenty of land speeders, transport vehicles, and one of those ubiquitous Jawa monstrosities. At least with so many other ships around, there were plenty of parking attendants to make sure the Jawas couldn’t strip the Razor Crest again. 

He had been hesitant to leave the Child alone in the ship, but the kid had finally fallen asleep after running around for close to four hours straight. A good portion of that time had been spent playing the kid’s new favorite game: making various bits of hardware fly around using the mysterious force that had saved Mando’s life several times already. It hadn’t been a huge expenditure of energy, but enough that Mando was sure the kid would sleep soundly for several hours. Enough time for the errands he needed to run, especially since he wouldn’t have to keep an eye on the kid. Still, he hated to leave the Child alone even for a short time. This whole being a father thing was hard to get used to.

Mando suppressed a sigh as the crowd around him slowed even more. Of course the food vendors had to be on the far side of town. He adjusted the bag of supplies slung over his back and looked for a quicker route through the mass of people. Normally, his armor and weaponry cleared a wide path through any crowd, but the streets here were narrow and everyone seemed tired and grumpy as the long, dusty day drew to a close.

Seeing a slightly less busy alleyway, Mando ducked into it. It was never a good idea to go into strange alleyways, but it led in the general direction he needed to go and he hadn’t seen anyone so far who would be any sort of challenge to his fighting ability. Unfortunately, the alley emptied out into a tightly packed square. At one end was a raised platform where a bored looking auctioneer was showing off a reptilian creature wearing manacles and a very tight leather collar around its neck. _Ah, a slave market_ , Mando thought. That explains the crowd. Slaving was technically illegal in the New Republic, but auctions like this still popped up, usually in out of the way places like this. 

Mando looked to either side, trying to decide which way to skirt the square. His ship was towards his left, but the main entrance to the square was also in that direction and he decided to go right. It would be less direct, but he could get out of the square through another alleyway he saw just beyond the slave pen. 

It was slow going, as the spectators were reluctant to move out of his way. This must be a rougher place than I thought, if even a fully armored Mandalorian can’t impress these folks. He hoped the kid was still asleep; as he grew more proficient with his powers, the Child was able to open just about every lock on the ship and Mando was starting to worry that he’d find the kid in his arsenal one of these days. Leaving a baby alone with access to weapons probably wasn’t considered good parenting.

As he neared the slave pen, Mando realized there were children for sale. His hands clenched. There wasn’t much he could do about it without destroying the entire town, and there would be far too much collateral damage. Still, his heart ached for them; he could have easily ended up in a similar situation after the death of his parents if the Mandalorians hadn’t rescued him. Even if he had enough money to buy them all and give them their freedom, he didn’t have enough room on the Razor Crest to fit them all, and how could he choose just one? Besides, one foundling was more than enough for now.

Still inching his way around the edge of the square, he saw a woman bending down to smooth back the hair of one of the children. She wiped the child’s tears and smiled encouragingly, but her own eyes held a haunted look. Her slave collar was plain, dull metal; she’d clearly worn it for a long time, judging from the nicks and dents. As Mando passed the fence separating the waiting slaves from the crowd, the woman looked up at him. She scanned the crowd wearily, then turned back to another child who was tugging at her shirt hem. There was nothing special about her smudged face, tangled hair, or dull brown eyes. Still, Mando froze. _I’m going to regret this_ , he thought, as he signaled to the obsequious Twi’lek who seemed to be in charge of the slaves.

“How much for the woman?” Mando asked, pointing her out,

“That one?” the Twi’lek said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure a proud warrior like yourself has better taste than that. We’ve got some lovely young things from Dantooine that will be on the block in just a few minutes.”

“No. That one. How much?” Mando was getting impatient. The kid could wake up any minute.

The Twi’lek shrugged. “Suit yourself, Mando. We’ll probably get 75 for her, maybe 100 if she doesn’t trip and fall on the way onto the platform.” He snickered and Mando wanted to punch him in the face. But that would just delay things and he needed to get back to the ship.

“I’ll give you 125,” he said, reaching for his money pouch. He shook out a handful of credits and held them out. He could see the Twi’lek’s eyes light up with greed; he’d likely tacked at least 50% onto the price he’d quoted but Mando just wanted to get out of this place and safely back into space. 

The Twi’lek snatched up the credits and produced a leather-handled chain from his pocket. “Enjoy your purchase,” he said, snapping the clasp on the end of the chain to the hook on the woman’s collar and dropping the handle into Mando’s gloved hand. 

**********************  
Mariana had been standing in the slave pen for most of the day. She knew she would be one of the last to go across the auction platform; her reputation as not being good for much preceded her. It would be her, the smaller children, the older folks, and those with physical deformities knocked down for bargain prices after the more desirable slaves had been sold. Until then, there wasn’t much to do but stand around and try to keep the little ones’ spirits up. It was always hardest for them; once you’d been across that platform a few times, it was easier to be resigned to one’s fate. 

She smoothed Calan’s hair back from his face for the umpteenth time that day. Hopefully whoever bought the kid would trim it for him. She’d have done it for him, but no one would trust her with anything sharp in the slave pen, and anyway, she’d probably just chop the poor boy’s nose off. 

“It’ll be okay,” she lied. She hoped Calan would be okay, but she had no idea. It was the same lie she repeated to herself every time she changed masters. She wiped a tear from the boy’s face and patted his shoulder. Once again, she scanned the crowd, wondering dully who she’d end up leaving with, but it was all a blur of faces, human and otherwise, as well as a fair share of shiny helmets. What kind of person wears a full helmet in this heat? She was sure none of them were upstanding citizens, but then again, how many decent folk were hanging around a slave auction?

One of the little girls who’d come in with Calan tugged on Mariana’s shirt and she turned to find out what the kid needed now. She’d refused to tell anyone her name, but she kept asking for water or something to eat or a toy. Mariana thought the girl was in shock.

Suddenly, the Twi’lek guard was clipping a chain to the ring on her collar. Mariana was confused. It was way too early for her to be sent onto the block. As she looked up from the little girl, she saw a gloved hand take the handle of the leash. It was one of the helmeted warriors she’d spied in the crowd. 

“Come on,” the man said evenly, his voice modulated by the helmet but not overly so. The T shaped visor marked him as a Mandalorian, so he probably was human underneath all that armor. Mariana shrugged to the kids and tried to climb over the low fence that separated the slave pen from the rest of the square. She heard the Twi’lek snigger as she caught her knee on the top rail and nearly took a header. Her new owner was silent, but he did stand patiently as she got her feet under her. As soon as she was steady again, he motioned for her to start walking. 

She followed as closely as she could, but he was taller than her and once they left the square, he started striding out more quickly. _Someone’s in a hurry_ , she thought as she scurried to keep up. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing for her or not. There weren’t that many reasons why a man would be in a rush to get a woman alone, and he was clearly heading out of town. As usual, a million questions swirled through Mariana’s head but she’d long ago learned the truth behind the old saying “Curiosity killed the loth-cat.” Asking questions was never a good idea until she’d taken a better measure of her new owner’s temper. Instead of opening her mouth, she tried to remember anything she’d learned about Mandalorians. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much. They were secretive ever since the Empire’s purge, and known mostly for their formidable fighting skills. It would be best not to cross him.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the edge of town, and Mariana was out of breath long before they reached the battered but shiny ship parked on the dusty plain. She couldn’t have asked a question even if she’d wanted to risk it. Her owner pressed a button on his wrist and the ship’s ramp lowered. Without breaking stride, he led her into the belly of the craft.

Her first thought was that it was dark and cluttered. Her second thought was cut short by a clatter of metal ringing from somewhere in the gloom.

The Mandalorian muttered something she assumed was a swear word and dropped the handle of her leash. He darted forward and began rummaging around behind a pile of junk.

“Where are you, ad’ika?” he said. “Come on. Please. Aha!”

He emerged from the dark holding something small and wiggly in his arms. As he turned toward Mariana, she saw that the creature was green, bat-eared and absolutely adorable. Huge, dark eyes shone with mischief and a tiny three-fingered hand waved a shard of metal at her.

The Mandalorian sighed. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering why I bought you. Well, here he is.”

Mariana didn’t know what to say. She took a step closer, and the little creature grinned widely, showing off the tiniest, most beautiful teeth she’d ever seen. “What … what is he?” 

“If you mean what species, I don’t know,” the Mandalorian admitted. “As for who he is, he’s … my son. Well, foundling.”

Mariana couldn’t believe her ears. This impressively armored warrior was stumbling over his words, clearly as in awe of the little fellow as she was. “So … you bought me to be a babysitter?” She stifled a laugh. 

“More or less,” he said. “And I didn’t buy you; I bought your freedom. You can work off the debt by helping with the kid. If you want to.”

Once again, Mariana didn’t know what to say. Had this man just offered her freedom? She swallowed and looked down at the floor. When she looked back up, her eyes met the blank metal face of his helmet … and the bright eyes of his child, who had tilted his head like a puppy. 

“Um, yeah,” she said. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good,” said the Mandalorian, shoving the baby at her. “Keep him out of trouble while I prep the ship for launch.” 

Mariana barely had time to realize she was holding the creature before the man was gone, bustling around the ship pushing buttons and pulling levers. The little one was small but solid. Still, he wasn’t very heavy and he nestled easily in her arms. A low purring coo issued from his mouth as he offered her the metal piece he’d been playing with.

“Oh, thanks,” she said. “You really shouldn’t be playing with stuff like that. You could get hurt.” She gingerly took the shard from him, but not carefully enough. It slipped in her hand and sliced across the base of her thumb. “Ouch!” She dropped the piece of metal on the floor. “I hope your dad has a good med kit.” 

The green child giggled and reached for her hand. “Don’t laugh. This happens to me a lot. It’s not funny.” Still, she found herself smiling back at the creature. She still wasn’t sure how much she could trust her new owner … no, _boss_ .. but she certainly wanted to spend more time with this little fellow. 

The ship began to shudder as the engines fired. Mariana found a crate to sit on and cradled the baby closer. “Hang on,” she said. “Here we go.”


	2. Chapter 2

Once the Razor Crest was safely in space, Mando locked in a course and engaged the autopilot. He fiddled with a few of the instruments, well aware that everything was fine and he was just stalling to avoid having to go back down and face the woman. He still wasn’t exactly sure why he’d bought her freedom; it wasn’t like him to act impulsively. He liked to plan things out well in advance, make sure he had a backup plan (or two). Soldiers who acted on a whim usually didn’t live long.

_It must be the kid_ , he thought. _He’s making me soft._

He made his way down the ladder to the cargo level. It took him a moment to find her, tucked away in a corner on a crate, quietly bouncing the kid on her lap. She looked up, a tinge of fear on her face. He was used to getting that reaction; in fact, he kind of liked it. It kept people at a distance, which was how he preferred them. 

The kid saw him and started squirming. As the woman tried to hold onto him, Mando noticed the blood on her hand. “What happened?” he asked sharply. He’d left her alone with the kid for twenty minutes….

“I took that piece of metal away from him before he hurt himself,” she said. “And I cut myself on it. Of course.”

“Oh.” Mando relaxed now that he knew the kid was okay. “How bad …”

“No big deal,” she said quickly. “It’ll be fine. I just need to see your med kit when you get a chance.”

She needed a trip to the ‘fresher to clean up, too, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up without sounding rude. He was no expert on etiquette, but he was certain it wasn’t a good thing to remind a woman that she looked a mess. There was one thing he could do while he figured out what to say, though.

“Hold on for a minute,” he said. He went to the tool cache in one of the wall units and pulled out a small precision torch. Not ideal, but the best he could do.

As he turned back toward her, he saw her eyes widen. So did the kid’s, but he was probably just excited to see something he knew was capable of making shiny sparks. 

“I’m going to take that slave collar off you,” Mando said. “Just hold still.”

She looked nervous but gave him a hint of a smile. Shifting the kid to one side, she bared her neck. Mando flicked the torch on, which elicited a coo from the kid. The little guy was a sucker for bright, shiny things. Working as quickly and carefully as possible, Mando cut through the metal collar in two places. One half fell into his gloved hand; the other half slid down and clattered onto the floor. The skin on her throat was paler where the collar had lain. He wondered how long she’d worn it. There were a few calluses where the imperfectly forged edge had rubbed in a few spots. He resisted the urge to touch them.

“That should be more comfortable,” he said. “You can wash up in the ‘fresher if you want. There’s a med kit in there, too. For your hand.” 

Her hand rose to rub at the bare skin on her neck. “Thanks,” she said. “It feels … strange. But nice. Very nice.” This time she really smiled and Mando was glad for the anonymity of his helmet. He really was not good at gratitude.

He held out his hands to take the kid. “Give him here.” He gestured with his helmet. “The ‘fresher’s through there.”

***************  
The refresher was cramped, like everything else on this ship, but Mariana didn’t mind. It was clean and had running water, which was more than she could say for some of the facilities she’d had to use over the last several years. She washed her face and neck (her neck!) and then looked for the med kit. There were two small cabinets in the wall. The first one held a small mirror, razors, and a sliver of soap. _Hmmm, Mandalorian toiletries_ , she mused. The second cabinet held a well stocked med kit: bandages, antiseptic, pain killers, a handheld cauterizer, even a canister of bacta spray. She cleaned the cut on her hand and applied a bandage. Much better than a scrap of rag. After she put the med supplies away, she opened the other cabinet again and pulled out the mirror. It was small (just big enough for shaving in, she thought) but she was able to get a halfway decent look at herself. _Yikes._

Her face was clean, but her hair was a mess. Not much she could do about it until she had a chance to wash it and comb it out, but she pulled out the worst of the tangles with her fingers and made a clumsy braid that at least kept it off her face. She knew her clothes needed mending as well as a good wash, but that would have to wait as well. When she was as presentable as possible, she took a deep breath and opened the ‘fresher door.

She was greeted by a horrible screeching sound. The Child toddled over to her, mumbling excitedly about something. He pointed a tiny claw in the direction of the noise. The Mandalorian was manhandling a large piece of equipment away from one of the cargo area walls. 

“What’s he doing?” she asked, bending down to pick the kid up. He cooed at her and made a tiny shrug. 

“I’ve been using the extra bunk as storage,” the Mandalorian said, keying open a door that had been hidden behind the equipment. “The kid’s learned how to open locks, so I put the carbonite regenerator in front of it.” The door slid open to reveal a basic bunk room cluttered with a collection of junk. “We’ll get it cleared out so you’ll have a place to sleep.”

It was mostly him doing the clearing, though, as every time Mariana put the child down to help, she ended up scooping him back up before he got hold of something. “No wonder you locked all this stuff up,” she said the fifth time she removed a sharp object from his tiny fist. “And I see why you need help. He’s a handful.”

The Mandalorian chuckled, which surprised her a little. “It’s been a bit of a challenge,” he said drily. 

Mariana relaxed. “How does he open the locks, though? He’s way too short to reach them.”

“I’ll explain that later,” was all the answer she got. The bunk was cleared out, and he turned his attention to finding places for all the stuff he’d removed. “I think the bedding is clean, but you might want to check. No one’s used it for quite a while.”

Mariana took the Child into the bunk room. It was plain but serviceable. A narrow bed jutted out from the wall, with a dusty but fairly clean blanket spread over it. Tucked underneath was a set of thin sheets and a lumpy pillow. “Not the best, but way better than I’m used to,” she told the kid. She sat him on the bed, where he toddled over to the narrow window set in the wall. The shutter was only partly down, and he could see the stars drifting by outside.

The rest of the room was as basic as the bed. A cabinet in one wall with two shelves, and a side table with one drawer for storage. Not that she had anything to keep in them, but it was nice to know they were there. She sat down on the bed and peered out the window with the child. He jabbered something and pointed at a particularly bright red giant star. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“He likes shiny things.” She whirled around. The Mandalorian was in the doorway; for such a large, armored person, he was very quiet. He hesitantly stepped inside. “He spends a lot of time up in the cockpit with me.” 

“Is that a problem?” she asked. “Do you need me to keep him out of your hair while you’re up there.”

He took another step closer. “No. I … I don’t mind him being up there. I just need you to watch him when I have to leave the ship, when I need to do repairs, things like that. He … he has powers. I don’t like to leave him alone.”

“Powers? What kind of powers?” She glanced at the Child, who was still gazing out at the stars. 

“He can manipulate things with his mind,” the Mandalorian said quietly. “That’s how he opens the door locks. I’ve seen him do things …” He shook his head. “You won’t believe it if you haven’t seen it.”

“Force-sensitive.” 

“What?”

“He must be Force-sensitive. Like the Jedi Knights.”

The Mandalorian stiffened. “Jedi,” he said slowly. “The Armorer mentioned … do you know where these Jedi are?”

“I don’t think there are any anymore. They were exterminated by the Empire at the end of the Clone Wars.” 

The Mandalorian sat down beside her on the bed. “I rescued him from Imperial forces. Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that, but according to the Mandalorian creed, he’s my foundling. I’m responsible for him until he comes of age or I can reunite him with his own kind. He’s already 50 years old, so I have no idea at what age he’ll be considered an adult. Probably long after I’m dead. So, I’m looking for his people.”

It was the longest speech she’d heard from the helmeted man. There was clearly more to the story than he was telling — she could feel the pain behind his words — but for now she’d work with what he’d given her.

“I might be able to help you with that,” she said quietly. “I was studying to be a scholar before … well, _before._ Research was my forte. If you have a data pad and a HoloNet connection, my Galactic Archive credentials should still be valid. They never purge their files, and I had access to a lot of collections. We can find out what species he is, or if there are any Jedi left. Or at least where they used to be.” She shrugged. “Any clue might help.”

The Mandalorian sat quietly for a moment, then said, very carefully, “Thank you. I would appreciate your help. We’ll get you a data pad the next time we stop for supplies.” He glanced around the tiny room. “Maybe some new bedding, too. And clothes. Whatever else you need.”

She put her hand on his forearm without thinking. She felt him stiffen at the touch and pulled her hand away. “Thank you. We should get the kid some safer toys, too.” She held up her bandaged hand. “For my sake, at least.” She shook her head ruefully. “I’m not very good with _things_ ; ideas are my strong suit. That’s why I was at the tail end of the slave auction. Not much call for intellectual slaves in this sector.”

The child had lost interest in the window and slipped between them, laying a hand on each of their arms. He cooed and looked up at them in turn with huge eyes and an adorable pout. 

“Hungry, ad’ika?” the Mandalorian asked.

“Is that his name? Adeeka?”

“He has no name,” the man said, picked the child up and standing. “At least, not that I know of. _Ad’ika_ is Mando’a. It means ‘little one’.”

Mariana stood up as well and nodded. “Is it okay if I call him that, too? Or is it wrong for an outsider to speak your language?”

“Call him what you like,” he replied. He shrugged. “I mostly call him Kid or ad’ika. He’ll respond to either.”

“And what about you? What’s your name?”

He stiffened again and his voice seemed even more modulated, if that was possible. “You can call me Mando.”

“Mariana Loxli,” she replied, holding out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mando, Ad’ika.”

Mando nodded as he shook her hand stiffly. “Nice to meet you, too.” He stood silently for a moment before clearing his throat. “Let’s get this kid fed before he tries to raid the galley.” He turned abruptly and left the bunk room. 

The galley was, of course, tiny. A few storage cabinets, a quick cooker and a small cooler box. The food was just as utilitarian: ready to eat bars, dehydrated rations and other grab and go items. Mando pulled out a block of veg-meat and tossed it in the cooker. 

“I take it you don’t cook much,” Mariana ventured as the food heated up. Mando shrugged. He took out two plates and a pair of mismatched forks. When the cooker dinged, he split the food into two portions, pushing the larger one in front of her. He cut up the smaller portion into bite sized pieces, and set it in front of the kid, who squealed in delight and started cramming them into his mouth.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Mariana was hungry (she was always hungry) but it felt rude to eat in front of her host.

“I’ll eat later,” Mando said shortly. 

Mariana picked up her fork and took a bite. Veg-meat was filling, but bland, and she’d had her fair share of it over the years. “If we get some spices on the next supply run, I can make this stuff more appetizing.” As the words left her mouth, she was already chiding herself. _Stupid! Never insult someone’s cooking._

To her relief, Mando chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not great, but it’s fast and easy, and he doesn’t seem to mind. Better for him than frogs.” She must have looked confused, because he continued. “I saw him eat a frog once. Just … picked it up off the ground and swallowed it whole.” He shook his head. “I have no idea what he should be eating, so I just offer him whatever I have. So far no ill effects.”

The kid burped, having cleaned his plate. He giggled when they looked at him and tried to put the empty plate on his head. “Oh, ad’ika, you are so weird,” Mando said. Mariana laughed. She bit back a teasing _Like father, like son_. Instead, she finished her own meal and just watched the odd pair. Bored with the plate, the kid had turned his attention to Mando’s helmet. Standing on the table, he smeared greasy fingerprints all over the shiny surface.

Before she could stop herself, Mariana asked, “Don’t you ever take the helmet off?”

Mando stiffened, the easy mood broken. “No,” he said curtly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said. “That was way out of line. None of my business.” Why was she being so dumb today?

He relaxed a little. “No, it’s a legitimate question. I … I only take the helmet off when absolutely necessary. To eat, shower …” He hesitated a moment, before continuing softly. “No one has seen my face since I swore the creed. This is the Way.”

“Not even him?” She nodded at the kid, who was listening to their conversation as if he was vitally interested.

“No living thing,” Mando said, unable to hide a slight quaver in his voice.

The kid cocked his head, ears drooping as if he sensed the gravity of the moment. His little hand reached out for Mando’s glove and Mariana’s heart nearly broke. “Well,” she said, “anytime you need me to keep him out of your hair so you can, you know, eat or… whatever … just let me know. I’ll take him in my bunk so you can have privacy.”

Mando took the kid’s hand between his fingers. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I appreciate it. It’s been a little stressful sometimes …”

Mariana finished her food and stood up. She reached out and stroked the kid’s fuzzy little head. He smiled up at her, but didn’t let go of his father’s hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know that Din is a big of’ softy underneath all that armor!

Helicon was closer to the Galactic Core than Mariana had been before, and Quarra was definitely several steps up from the town where Mando had found her. For one thing, it had a more temperate climate, so there was a lot less dust. After nearly a week aboard the Razor Crest, it felt wonderful to be outside, walking around in the fresh air. The kid seemed to think so, too. His little green head swiveled back and forth in her arms as he took in the storefronts and colorful plants that lined the street. Mariana couldn’t gawk as much as the little one, though, because she had to keep up with Mando. The man was clearly not as interested in sightseeing as his companions were.

“We’ll start here,” he said, opening the door to a textile shop. The kid cooed with delight as they stepped inside. The shop was filled with colorful displays of clothes and fabrics of all kinds. One entire wall was covered with strings of beads, ribbons, braids, and tassels. She tightened her grip on him as he started wiggling to get down. 

“Nope, kiddo,” she said. “I know it’s tempting, but those aren’t toys.” He gave her a pouty look and made a “pthft” sound that transcended language. The pouty look intensified when he caught her trailing a hand over a beautiful fuzzy blanket in her favorite shade of teal.

A tiny shop assistant scurried up to them. No more than four feet tall, she was a species Mariana had never seen before, with purple mottled skin, luminous eyes and long, nimble fingers. “How may I help you?” she said with a graceful dip of the head.

“My friend needs new clothes,” Mando said. 

“That is abundantly clear,” the shop assistant said, quickly looking Mariana up and down. “Do not take offense. I speak the truth, nothing more. I am Fala. Come.”

Fala gestured for Mariana to follow her toward the back of the shop. “Here we do things right. First, I take measurements, then you choose the styles, then we tailor for you. Delivery by the end of the day.” They reached a counter, where Fala picked up a small device. “Stand on the square. Best give the child to your friend, we do not want to measure it, too. Unless the child needs clothing as well?” 

“No,” said Mando, taking the kid. “He does not.”

Fala shrugged and started ordering Mariana around again. “Stand up straight. Now turn to the right. Lift the arms….” The little shop assistant scanned her a million different ways, the device sending out a series of trills and beeps as it recorded her measurements. In less than a minute, they were done.

“And now, you choose.” Dropping the scanner back on the counter, Fala placed one long fingered hand on Mariana’s back and guided her smoothly toward a seemingly endless rack of women’s clothes.

“Oh, I … I just need the basics,” Mariana stammered. “A pair of pants, a shirt, some underwear …nothing fancy. Whatever’s cheapest will be fine.”

Fala scoffed. “Never choose clothing by cost,” she said. “Even those who are frugal can be stylish.” She rummaged through the rack, pulling out several pairs of trousers, then a selection of shirts and tunics. 

“No, no, really, something like what I’ve already got, just without the holes,” Mariana insisted. Everything Fala had pulled out looked far too expensive. She already felt guilty enough about making Mando waste time and money on her when all the really needed was to restock the galley and find a decent data pad so she could start researching.

Fala shrugged again. “Customer is always right,” she said. “Will you pick up or do you need delivery?”

_Gah-aaah!_ Mariana whirled around at the sound of the kid’s angry squeal. He was straining in Mando’s arms, trying to reach the display of beads. He was still adorable, but It looked like he was working up to a proper tantrum.

“Here,” Mando said, shifting the kid away from the beads and toward Mariana. “Why don’t you take him outside while I pay?”

Mariana practically lunged forward to take him. “Good idea. We’ll meet you outside.” She snuggled the baby close and hurried toward the door. Being waited on had made her very uncomfortable, and she couldn’t wait to get out of the shop. She heard the soft rumble of Mando’s voice and the higher-pitched chatter of Fala fade away behind her as she reached the door.

The kid was not happy, squirming in her arms and mumbling away, clearly demanding to go back inside and play with the shiny beads. “That stuff was too posh for us,” she told him, jiggling him up and down to distract him. He snuffled at her, unconvinced. “If you’re good, and don’t act up while we finish the shopping, I’ll ask Daddy if we can stop at that toy shop down the road before we go back to the ship.” She pointed a few doors down, where brightly colored puppets and balls spilled out of a sidewalk bin. The kid cocked his head, intrigued.

“Yeah, toys! After we find me a new pair of boots, and get some food, and a data pad and some parts Daddy needs for the ship, we’ll pick you out something really nice. Something safer than those bits of metal you keep finding.” 

She was so focused on brightening the kid’s mood that she never noticed the guy leaning against the doorway to the next shop whispering into a handheld communicator. 

*****************

They bought a pair of sturdy and hardly-worn boots to replace Mariana’s tattered shoes, then stocked up on food, including some fresh vegetables that had Mariana daydreaming about the dinner she was going to fix that night. Something other than veg-meat and insta-bread for a change! Their final stop was an electronics depot where Mando would pick up some spare parts for the ship and she hoped to pick out an inexpensive data pad.

She was alternately thinking of baked root casserole and what specs to look for in a data pad when she walked straight into Mando’s back. The kid squawked at her as he got smashed against the backplate of the Mandalorian’s armor. 

“Get back,” Mando said gruffly. He whipped his rifle off his back in one smooth movement, crouching slightly. It took her a moment to realize what was going on. They were in the passageway between two buildings and three armed men blocked the path in front of them. A noise behind her alerted Mariana to two more behind them. None of them was as heavily armored as Mando, but they were tough looking nonetheless.

“You’re on quite a spending spree, Mando,” the tallest one said. “Must have a good chunk of credits in your purse. More than enough to share.”

Mando said nothing, just calmly surveyed the five men. “Stay back,” he told   
Mariana quietly. She couldn’t have moved if she wanted to; the sight of all those blasters and rifles had her frozen in place. 

“Don’t be stupid, Mando,” the bandit said. “We’ve got two guns on the woman and two on the kid. You’ve got all that shiny armor but I don’t see any on them. Just hand over the cash and no one gets hurt. Try anything and they die. Got it?”

“Got it,” Mando said. He started to reach for the money pouch he kept on his belt. Mariana couldn’t breathe. The kid struggled in her arms, trying to see what was going on, but she turned his face toward her chest and whispered “No, baby, just stay quiet. Please.” There was nowhere to hide, but that was all she wanted to do.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose. Mando whirled around, blasting two of the bandits with his rifle and round kicking another in the head. A fourth went down with a blow from the butt of the rifle and the fifth got off a single shot, which went wild as Mando punched him in the face. The man dropped with a wail, clutching a broken jaw. It was all over in less than a minute. 

“Come on,” Mando said, stepping over the fallen men as if they were nothing more than litter in the street. “The depot closes soon.”

The kid gabbled something, pointing his finger at the men as if scolding them. Then he laughed. Mando was already several yards away, and Mariana had to practically run to catch up to him. 

“Are … are they dead?” she managed to say once she was able to swallow again. 

“No. I don’t kill unless I have to. They were just trying to rob us. I eliminated the threat and we’ll be long gone before they think to try anything else.”

How could he just walk on as if nothing had happened? He’d taken out five men without drawing a deep breath; she knew Mandalorians were highly trained soldiers, but what kind of training created a killing machine like that? Maybe she’d been naive to trust him so easily, just because of the kid. 

“Shouldn’t we report this to the authorities?”

“No.”

She hugged the kid tighter. This was not okay. She concentrated on breathing in and out, but her mind was racing.

“What if they report it?” Oh, stars, what if they got arrested? She had no identification, she could end up back on the auction block, what would happen to the baby … She was starting to shake as her breath stuttered and she nearly dropped the kid. He cocked his head at her and gently reached out to pat her face.

“They won’t,” Mando said calmly, still walking as if nothing was wrong. “There’s no reason for one man to attack five unless he was provoked, so they’d be admitting their own guilt if they did. Besides, I doubt they want it known that all five of them got their asses kicked by one guy. They won’t tell a soul.”

Mariana calmed down a little bit at these words, but she still felt a panic attack lurking deep within her. All she wanted was to get back to the ship, hide in her bunk and sort this all out. Why hadn’t she insisted on getting a signed contract stipulating exactly how long she’d have to work for the Mandalorian to pay off her debt? How long was she going to be stuck with him? Was this really better than being a slave?

They reached the electronics depot, but Mariana couldn’t concentrate on the selection of data pads. She was too busy trying to calculate the going rate for child care in this sector, and how much room and board on a gun ship was per night. Throw in the cost of the clothing (thank the stars she’d insisted on just the basics!) and she might just have her debt worked off in six months. A year at the most. She could handle that, right?

Mando finally gave up asking her opinion and chose a data pad himself, then haggled over the parts he needed. Mariana absentmindedly played with the kid, who was thrilled to be surrounded by so many shiny and sharp objects. When the transaction was done, she numbly followed Mando back toward the shopping street they’d started on. In just a few minutes they were back in front of the textile shop.

“It’s getting late,” Mando said. He dug a handful of credits out of his pouch. “Why don’t you take the kid to choose a couple of toys before the toy shop closes? I’ll pick up the stuff here and we can get back to the ship before it gets dark.”

She nodded, taking the credits. She’d completely forgotten about buying toys, but somehow he hadn’t. The kid started wiggling and cooing as they approached the toy shop, and she finally put him down so he could race inside. 

The shopkeeper was a grandmotherly looking woman whose face lit up as the child toddled inside. “Well, look at you! Aren’t you just the cutest thing ever?” She looked up at Mariana. “Shopping or just browsing?”

“Shopping,” Mariana replied. It was easier to breathe in here, surrounded by jumping jacks and stuffed tauntauns and rubber balls. It didn’t take long for the kid to fall in love with a green ball and a purple stuffed frog. When Mariana asked the price, she realized there was enough left over for a set of wooden building blocks. She didn’t know if the kid liked that sort of thing, but building toys were very educational. 

When they emerged from the toy shop, Mando was waiting, a cloth wrapped bundle tucked into the crate from the depot. The kid waved his new frog frantically, desperate for Mando to see it.

“Nice,” he said. “Just don’t eat it, okay, ad’ika?” He turned his helmet toward Mariana. “The food should have been delivered by now. Let’s get back to the ship.”

Her anxiety ramped back up as they got closer to the Razor Crest. She clutched the kid to her, but he was busy bopping the frog on the head with the ball. 

A freight droid was waiting next to the ship with their groceries on a mag-lev lift. It beeped cheerily, but Mando wouldn’t let it enter the ship. “No droids,” he said. Mariana took the kid inside while Mando hand carried the packages of food inside. She was still shaking a little, but now that they were back in a familiar location, she felt a bit better. Like it or not, this was the closest thing she had to a home.

******************

Mando hoisted the last parcel of food off the mag-lev and shooed the droid away. The blasted thing beeped a chipper farewell before it rolled off. Now that everything was aboard, he closed the ramp, shutting Quarra behind them.

“You can start unpacking while I prep for launch,” he told Mariana. The kid was happily occupied with his new toys, but she looked a bit pale. She’d seemed shaken ever since the altercation with the bandits and it was probably a good idea to get off planet as quickly as possible.

He climbed the ladder into the cockpit and started his pre-flight checks. It was a comforting ritual, one he could probably do in his sleep. He’d certainly done it under adverse circumstances on many occasions, when getting the Razor Crest in the air was a matter of life or death. He felt his shoulders relax as he ran through the checks; he never felt entirely comfortable outside his ship. It was the only place he could let his guard down.

Once the ship was safely aloft, he went back down to the cargo level. It looked like Mariana had finished putting the food away and was starting on the package from the textile shop. 

“Um, Mando,” she said hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“I think you got the wrong package. This isn’t the stuff I ordered.” She held up a quilted dark blue jacket. 

“No, but it’s what I ordered,” he said. She looked at him in confusion. “I asked the sales attendant to add a few things I thought you’d need. And to upgrade things a little.” At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. He understood why Mariana had asked for the bare minimum, but there was no need for it. In a way, she was as much a foundling as the kid was, and it was his duty to make sure she was clothed and fed. Now, though, as Mariana rifled through the package, he wasn’t so sure.

When she reached the fluffy teal blanket at the bottom of the pile, she suddenly burst into tears. Hysterical, messy, heart-rending sobs that left Mando completely at a loss. He’d gladly face a hundred angry mudhorns rather than a single emotional person. This was why he’d frozen so many of his bounties; the ones that begged and blubbered were almost worse than the ones that fought back.

The kid dropped his froggy and toddled over to Mariana, patting at her leg with his tiny hand. He looked up at Mando, eyes pleading for him to make it better. But Mando didn’t know what to do. 

“I’m … I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I just … just .. I’m just suffering some … cognitive dissonance here.” She hiccuped and snuffled as her sobs shuddered to a halt.

“I … I don’t understand,” Mando admitted.

She sat down on a crate, the blanket crumpled in her lap. “It’s just … here I was trying to figure out how quickly I could get away from you and you go and do something so sweet …” She shook her head.

“I still don’t understand. I thought things were going well …”

She sighed. “Let me try to explain. It was the fight. It … it brought back some memories I’d prefer to forget about.”

She pulled the kid into her lap and stared down into his eyes for a moment before she began to talk.

“I never told you how I came to be a slave. I was studying to be a scholar. It was the end of term and I was coming home from the Collegium for a visit. Just as the transport arrived in town, the Imperial forces attacked. Supposedly there were some Rebel spies in town, I don’t know what the reasoning was. I got off the transport and there were stormtroopers everywhere. It was chaos. Everybody ran. These people … I don’t know who they were … they grabbed me and a few others and we went into their house and hid in this tiny storage closet at the back. Things were blowing up and people were screaming and … When things finally quieted down and we came out, it was … it was a disaster. I went home and it … just wasn’t there. The door was gone, half the walls were gone, my parents, my aunt, my cousins … they were all gone. I had no idea what to do or where to go and then suddenly, there were more Imperials and they were sweeping up all the survivors. They rounded us up and shoved us into transports and that was it. They sorted everybody out, and took the ones that were useful and the rest of us … they were supposed to ‘dispose’ of us, but the commander had a deal with a Hutt on some backwater planet and he sold us to him.” 

“I understand how today’s situation reminded you of that day,” he said carefully. “But I don’t understand the ‘cognitive dissonance’ part.”

She looked up at him, absentmindedly stroking the kid’s ears. “Because today I saw that you were just another faceless, nameless soldier like them, and spent all this time trying to figure out how long it would be until I’ve repaid my debt to you and can get away … and then you did this.” She gestured toward the pile of clothing, which had slid onto the floor. “How … how can the person who took out five armed men without blinking be the same guy who noticed that I like this blanket after I touched it for maybe two seconds? I can’t wrap my head around it.”

There was nowhere to sit but Mando couldn’t stay towering over her. He crouched down in front of her and took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be easy. “First of all,” he said, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t set her off crying again, “I can’t do much about the faceless part.” He gestured awkwardly at his helmet. “But I’m not nameless.” He held out his hand. “Din Djarin.”

She shook his hand and smiled weakly. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Djarin … again.”

“No mister,” he said. “Just Din is fine. And those guys attacked us, remember? You were unarmed; I was just protecting you and the kid. I was doing my job. And by the way, this ,,,” -- he waved his hand at the blanket and the clothes -- “would never have happened before I met him.” He reached out to take the child out of her arms. It was true; before the kid had come into his life, it would never have occurred to him to make any effort beyond what was strictly necessary. And he would never have given out his name so easily. Yes, Cara Dune and Greef Karga knew it now, but only because Moff Gideon had broadcast it to the world. Otherwise, he’d still be anonymous “Mando” to two of his only real allies. Maybe it was true that parenthood changed a person.

“And as for your debt,” he went on, “don’t worry about it. Any time you want to leave, just say the word.”

“Actually,” she said, reaching out to pat the kid on the head, “I think I’ll stay.” 

Din was not prepared for how relieved that made him feel. He shoved the feeling aside and stood up. “Well, then, you should probably finish putting these things away,” he said. “I’ll just put away the spare parts and …”

She nodded and stood as well. “Yes, that’s a good idea. And then I’ll fix something fresh for dinner. I hope he likes veggies.” She tweaked the kid’s nose, which made him giggle. Din sighed. At least one of them was good at interacting with others.

**********************

Later that evening, after a good meal that wasn’t reconstituted or rehydrated, Mariana took the kid into her bunk to play while Mando -- no, _Din_ \-- ate his dinner. Mealtimes were a part of the daily routine that she’d particularly come to enjoy. At first, she’d felt bad about leaving him alone; he usually kept busy while she and the kid were eating, but sometimes he’d wander into the galley and help feed the child. It felt rude to shut themselves up in the bunk, but she knew it was the only way he’d feel comfortable enough to remove his helmet for more than a few seconds to scarf down some food, which was apparently what he’d been doing ever since taking in the kid. _That can’t be healthy_ , she’d told him, but he’d just shrugged.

Her new clothes were put away on the shelves and in the drawers, and she’d remade the bed with the new bedding. Even the lumpy pillow felt nicer with a fresh pillowcase on it, and she already knew the teal blanket was going to be much warmer than the old one.

“This place is starting to look like a home,” she told the kid, who was unimpressed, being far too busy studying the physical attributes of his new green ball. So far, he’d discovered that it bounced, that it was squishier than the metal knob that had previously been his prized possession, and that despite the tempting color, it was inedible. When he rolled the ball under the bunk and crawled in to get it out, she took the opportunity to change out of her old clothes into the pair of pajamas that the shop attendant had slipped into the order. It felt incredibly good to put on clothes that were not only clean but brand new. She’d washed her clothes as best she could in the ‘fresher sink, but it hadn’t helped much. They might have been clean but they were still frayed and haphazardly stitched, and they’d never been the right size to begin with. She would gladly consign them to the garbage heap the next time they landed.

She sat on the bed and pulled out the data pad. It was an older model, but in excellent condition. Whoever had it before had taken proper care of it. As she familiarized herself with the settings and started connecting to the HoloNet, the kid crawled up beside her. He watched the flashing lights on the keyboard as the pad ran through its start up routine.

“This,” she said, “is a data pad. It’s not a toy, although it is awfully fun to use.” He looked doubtful and tried to touch one of the buttons. “Nope,” she said. “You’ve got your toys, Daddy’s got his ship, and I’ve got this.” She caressed the screen, already dreaming about all the books and holo-docs she’d be able to download as soon as she set up her credentials. The Galactic Archives wasn’t what it once was, back in the glory days of the Old Republic, or even in the days of the New Republic before the rise of the Empire, but it still held a wealth of information that she was dying to get at.

*********************

For once, Din wanted to savor his meal. The vegetable casserole Mariana had fixed wasn’t fancy but it actually had flavor, unlike the crap he’d been eating for who knew how long. For someone who supposedly wasn’t good with things, she was a pretty good cook (although there had already been one incident with a knife that required the med kit). The fresh food wouldn’t last too long, considering the lack of cold storage space, and they would soon be back to premade stuff, but for now, he intended to enjoy it. The kid certainly had, eating nearly twice as much as he usually did, which made Din feel a little guilty. 

As good as the meal was, he didn’t linger over it too long. He’d found that if he knocked on the bunk door too quickly, he earned a look that reminded him not to bolt his food, but he still felt uneasy about having his helmet off for any length of time. Even when he’d been alone on the ship, he’d spent most of his time with it on.

He scraped his plate into the tiny trash compactor and then washed up the dishes. Mariana said he didn’t have to, but it only took a few minutes, and she did the bulk of the food preparation so he didn’t mind. When the plates were dried and back in the cupboard, he lifted his helmet off the table and slid it back on. As the locks clicked into place, he walked toward the bunk.

He knocked but she didn’t answer. Usually the door popped open right away and the kid scrambled out. Slightly concerned, Din pressed the keypad to open the door. What he saw inside left him breathless for a moment. Mariana and the kid were curled up on the bed, absorbed in a holo-vid on the data pad screen. She was wearing a pair of pale blue pajamas and her hair was down rather than in the braid or knot she usually kept it in. The Child was snuggled up against her side, and it just looked so domestic and … beautiful. Din was about to back away when she looked up.

“Oh, hi,” she smiled. “We’re just watching a frog vid. Did you know there are over 78 million of them on the ‘Net?”

“I did not,” he chuckled. 

“And I have the feeling he’s going to make us watch every single one of them.” She shook her head. “By the way, I’m sorry about that little outburst earlier. I know you aren’t like … them. You’re a good dad, and a good boss … and a good friend. I just have some issues.” 

“Don’t we all?” Din said quietly, but she was already distracted by the kid, who was pointing excitedly at the vid screen. He left them to their frog viewing and went back up to the cockpit, to watch the stars stream past.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little comedy, a little mutual attraction, and some father/son bonding.

Mariana looked up and stifled a laugh. “You want to _what_?”

“Teach you how to shoot a blaster,” Din repeated. She rolled her eyes.

“Um, you have met me, right? How many times have I hurt myself just since you’ve known me? And you want to put an actual weapon in my hand?”

“Yes. The next time we go planetside, I’d feel better if you had some way to defend yourself … and the kid. And I’m sure the inhabitants of that planet would feel better if you actually knew what you were doing.” Din had been thinking about their encounter with the muggers on Helicon. It had seemed like a safe enough place, which is why he’d let her and the kid accompany him on the supply run, and they’d still run into trouble. Most of the planets he visited were much worse, and he really would feel better knowing he wasn’t the only one who was armed.

“It’s your funeral,” Mariana said. She turned off her data pad and stood up. 

Din walked across the cargo area and released the lock on his arsenal. As the doors whooshed open to reveal the array of weapons, he heard Mariana take in a sharp breath. _It is pretty impressive_ , he admitted, his eyes roaming fondly over the collection he’d accumulated over the years. He opened a drawer and pulled out a Glie-44. He’d been up half the night cleaning and modifying it for her. He held it up.

“This is a Glie-44 blaster,” he said. “Pretty basic, not too much kick to it, so I don’t think you should have too much trouble with it. I’ve set it up for VR training, and it’s loaded with blanks right now, so even if you do manage to shoot it for real, you can’t do any real damage.”

She snorted. “I wouldn’t bet on that.” Still, she held out her hand and took the blaster from him. It looked a lot bigger in her hand, but it was still the lightest gun he had.

The kid dropped his froggy as soon as he saw that Mariana had an even more interesting toy. He didn’t try to touch it, though. He listened almost as intently as she did while Din explained the various parts of the blaster. It made Din wish the kid wasn’t so small and fragile; how wonderful would it be to train his foundling to be a proper Mandalorian warrior? Of course, given that the child was already 50 years old, by the time he was old enough to be trusted with a weapon, Din might be too old. Or dead, he mused soberly. All the more reason to find the kid’s people.

Once he was sure Mariana knew which end of the blaster to point at the target, Din set up the holoprojector in the cargo bay and initiated a basic target practice program. A large bright green target hung in the air near the far wall. 

“Go ahead,” he said. “Try a shot and see how it feels.” Once he saw how she handled the gun, he’d know what she needed to be corrected on.

**************

Mariana’s hands were sweaty and her mouth was dry. The blaster felt enormous as she lifted it, not really sure how to aim it. She pointed it in the general direction of the target, closed her eyes, and squeezed the trigger. The blaster fired a virtual charge and her hand flew up and back with the recoil.   
.  
“How was that?”

Din was silent for a moment, while he exchanged a look with the kid. “That. Was. The most spectacularly bad shot I have ever seen in my life,” he said. He was shaking with laughter by the end. 

Mariana tried to look indignant, but she knew it really had been a terrible shot. “Well, I’ve never done this before,” she said.

“Obviously,” Din said drily. 

“I’m glad I amuse you.” 

The kid watched their exchange, his little head swiveling back and forth as if he was at a flingball match. Sometimes Mariana was sure he understood everything they said, even though he was still pre-verbal himself.

Din cleared his throat, stifling another laugh. “Well, at least I know what I’m working with.” He paused for a beat. “Which isn’t much.”

Mariana stuck her tongue out at him, which delighted the kid. They were clearly more entertaining than frog vids. 

“Seriously, though,” Din said, “let’s start with how to hold the blaster properly.” He took the gun from her and demonstrated. “Until you’re better, hold it with two hands. You’ll be steadier and the recoil won’t be as bad.” He handed it back to her and she tried to hold it the way he had.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Put your dominant hand on top. You’ll have better control.” He stepped behind her and reached around to adjust her hands. “There. Now lift it just a bit more …” She felt him crouch down a little so he was looking right over her shoulder. If he hadn’t been wearing a helmet, she’d have been able to feel his breath on the back of her neck. It made it extremely hard to concentrate on what he was telling her. 

*****************

Din was finding it hard to concentrate on what he was doing. Partly it was because Mariana was incredibly inept with a blaster and teaching her was proving to be difficult, but mostly it was because in order to show her how to handle the gun, he had to constantly adjust her hands, her stance, her head (how in the world did she expect to hit the target if she wouldn’t _look_ at it?). He wasn’t used to touching anyone except the kid and it was … distracting. Especially once her hair started coming loose from its braid and he had to fight the urge to tuck the loose strands back into place. 

Finally, after she’d managed to wing the edge of the target, he ended the lesson. “That’s enough for today. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Sorry I’m so bad at this,” she said, her face flushed with what he assumed was embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, taking the blaster back. “Nobody’s a perfect shot on their first try.” 

She laughed. “You’re just being kind. I know I’m a complete disaster.”

It was true, but Din didn’t want her to feel bad. “You make up for it in other ways.” She blushed again, but this time Din felt his own face grow hot. He hadn’t realized how it would sound; he really was not good at this. 

After an awkward silence, she cleared her throat and said, “Speaking of which, my credentials with the Galactic Archive were fully restored this morning. Apparently, when you don’t use them for a decade, they have to make sure you’re still alive before they’ll give you access. I put in some queries and should start getting some hits soon.” She scooped up the kid. “Hopefully, we’ll get some clues to where you come from, little guy.”

“That’s good,” said Din, although he felt his heart sink a little at the thought of finding the kid’s people. It was what was best for him, of course, but Din knew he’d miss the womp rat terribly. He watched Mariana carry the kid back to the galley, where she’d left her data pad on the table. Once they found the kid’s people, she’d be out of a job, and although he would never admit it, he’d miss her, too.

********************

Mariana’s eyes were glazing over. Her query for documents containing the word “Jedi” had produced an avalanche of results. Most of them were dry government records of reports from the Jedi High Council to the Senate, but she had to scan through them all in case there was any mention of the child’s species. This was the part of research she liked the least: combing through endless documents for hours on end. Fortunately, she had a solution for the frustration. 

She exited the results list and entered a new query: “Mandalorian AND creed AND helmet.” This produced a much shorter, but still substantial list of documents, most of which were narrative texts, which were much more entertaining reading than government reports. Din was up in the cockpit with the kid, so she took the data pad into her bunk and curled up to read more comfortably, kicking off her boots and tucking her feet under the blanket. 

Three hours later, she turned off the data pad, her mind swirling with the kernel of an idea. She wasn’t sure how Din would react to it, but it was worth a shot. 

********************  
Blaster practice was slightly more productive the next morning. Mariana was more comfortable handling the weapon and Din was able to step back a bit and be less hands on, which seemed to help. It could be unsettling to have someone watching right over one’s shoulder, so he tried to give her more space. It helped him concentrate better, too.

After practice, he played with the kid for a while while she continued her research. How she could sit so still for hours on end was beyond him, but he could almost hear the gears in her mind working as she scanned and scrolled and tapped out notes. 

She fixed lunch for herself and the kid, and Din went up to the cockpit to check on things. Until they had a definite destination in mind, he had the ship set on a random course, trending in the general direction of a cluster of planets that would be suitable for a resupply run, and could possibly provide a few paying jobs. 

After lunch, the kid took a nap, and Din assumed Mariana went back to her research. He ran some diagnostics on the ship’s systems, did some routine maintenance on a few weapons … the usual busy work that filled his days when he was in transit from one job to another. When the kid woke from his nap, Mariana played with him, showing him how to build a tower with the building blocks. Din smiled to himself when the kid showed more interest in knocking down the tower than in building it; he had vague memories of doing much the same when he was small, before … the smile faded as he shoved the memory back into the compartment he kept it in. 

He continued working as Mariana fixed dinner and fed the kid, only stopping when she passed him on her way to her bunk, saying only, “I fixed a plate for you.” As the bunk door whooshed shut, it occurred to him that she’d been rather quiet and subdued all day. Maybe it was her difficulties with the blaster, or maybe her research wasn’t going well … or maybe it was going too well. Could she have already discovered something about the kid’s people? 

He ate quickly, washed up and knocked on her bunk door. 

“Can I talk to you?” she said hesitantly. 

“Of course.” He was right; something was wrong.

They sat at the table in the galley. She had her data pad in her hand and set it down on the table between them. “You found something,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, “but not what you think.” She tapped a few keys, pulling up a document. “The Jedi research is slow going, and I haven’t found anything of any use so far. But … when I hit a dead end, I like to switch gears and work on a different project for a while. And that’s how I found this.”

“It’s a book by a linguist who specializes in the relationship between language and belief. In this chapter, he looks at the Mandalorian creed … and in this particular section, which I’ve highlighted, he talks about the helmet rule.”

Din was confused. “I don’t understand. Why were you researching that?”

She looked sheepish. “When I encounter something I’m not familiar with, I like to learn as much as possible about it. You’re the first Mandalorian I’ve ever met, so naturally I’m curious about your culture. Anyway … what Glenor is saying here is that some — well, he calls them ‘sects’ but you might have another name for them — some sects use the word ‘another’ in this part of the creed, while others use the term ‘others.’ Basically, his point is that for some groups of Mandalorians, the rule is ‘the helmet will not be removed in the presence of another,’ meaning it stays on all the time, unless the wearer is alone. This seems to be the interpretation you were raised with.”

Din nodded, “Yes, this is the Way.”

“But for some other sects, the rule is ‘the helmet will not be removed in the presence of Others,’ which can be interpreted in one of two ways. To some groups, Others refers to anyone who is not Mandalorian; to other groups, it refers to anyone who is not part of the wearer’s family or clan.” She looked up at him. “You’re more of an expert on this than I am, but the way I’m reading it, this means that technically, you can take your helmet off in front of the kid, since he’s a member of your clan. I’m … I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but I had a professor once who taught us that even if there is an objective Truth out there (which is debatable in its own right), there is definitely more than one path to that Truth. Every religion, every creed, every belief system … they are all equally valid as long as they bring their followers closer to the Truth. So .. it’s completely up to you, and only you know how to interpret the Way and the creed, but for what it’s worth … I think a son deserves to see his father’s face.”

She handed him the data pad and returned to her bunk, where the kid was quietly playing with his froggy. Din stared at the data pad for several minutes before he picked it up. It had never occurred to him that there could be more than one way to understand the Way. He had been told the rules to follow and he had done so, with no reason to question them. 

He went up to the cockpit and started reading. 

**************

The next morning, Mariana got up and prepared breakfast as she usually did. As she was dishing up porridge for the kid, Din appeared at the bottom of the ladder that led to the cockpit. “I’ll feed him,” he said, handing her data pad back to her. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” he said. She fought back a grin.

“Hear that, kiddo, Daddy’s going to eat breakfast with you today,” she said. “I’ll just take mine back to the bunk, and I’ll see you later.” She tweaked the kid’s nose and winked at Din before filling her own bowl and taking it and the data pad back into her room. 

She found it hard to swallow her porridge, though. She was absolutely thrilled that Din had decided to take this step, but at the same time, it was hard not to feel left out. She’d spent a great deal of her life being the odd one out, the weird kid who would rather read than play sports, the girl who went to the party without a date. She’d finally found a place where she thought she might fit in, and now here she was, alone again. She shouldn’t be jealous of a father and son spending quality time together; after all, that was the whole point of bringing Glenor’s text to Din’s attention. But it still brought a lump to her throat.

*****************

Din took a deep breath, pressed the latches to either side of his neck and removed his helmet. He carefully set it down on the table and turned to face his son.

“Da!” the kid cried, making grabby hands and bouncing up and down on his feet. Din bent down and picked him up.

“Yeah, ad’ika, it’s me,” he said, trying to keep his voice from quavering. The kid pressed his small green hands against Din’s cheeks, giggling madly. “I did a lot of thinking last night, and I decided that maybe the Way is less a single path and more of … a braid of trails. They’re all slightly different, but they get you to the same place in the end. From now on, I take my helmet off when I’m with my clan. And that’s you, kiddo.”

“Da,” the kid said again, more softly this time. 

Din nodded. “Let’s eat.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief space battle and a cameo appearance by a young Poe Dameron.

The ship shuddered, tilting sharply to the left. Mariana had to grab hold of the closest object, which fortunately was a part of the bulkhead, to keep from falling over. A few days ago, the kid had slipped up to the cockpit when both she and Din had been distracted and tried to steer the ship. Mariana had grabbed at a seemingly stable shelving unit and ended up with several bruises, which were still quite tender.

It wasn’t the kid this time, though. He was in plain view, staging a fight between Froggy and Ball. Din flew up the ladder to the cockpit, muttering what she assumed were Mando’a swear words. Ever since the kid had started calling him “Da” when he had his helmet off, he’d been trying to teach him a few Mando’a words, and she noticed he’d slip out of Basic now and then.

Grabbing the kid, she scrambled up the ladder behind him. Several alarms were blaring by now and a galaxy of lights was flashing on the control panels. Din was already in the pilot’s seat, hands working the controls. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Sit down and buckle up,” he said curtly. “We’re under attack.”

She slid into the copilot’s chair and fastened the restraints, then wrapped her arms tightly around the kid. A pair of smaller ships were spiraling around the Razor Crest. “Are those TIE fighters?”

“Yeah,” he said, slamming a lever back and steering the ship with one hand while readying the weapons with the other. Mariana grabbed onto the armrest and curled around the kid as they lurched again. This time, though, it wasn’t from impact. Din was taking evasive maneuvers and the motion was smoother, if still sharp. 

The Razor Crest swooped and dove, the laser cannons blazing. Din’s hands danced over the controls, but the rest of him was almost unnaturally still. They took a hit from one of the TIE fighters, which sent them spinning sideways. Mariana clutched at the kid as they nearly fell out of their seat despite the restraints. 

“Shit,” said Din. He started frantically pressing buttons and flipping switches. The kid whined and clutched at Mariana’s shirt. 

The ship shuddered as another blast connected. Then Din pushed her into a nose dive, rotated 180 degrees and fired. One of the TIE fighters disintegrated as the Razor Crest’s cannons found their mark. The other TIE wheeled around, closing in for the kill, but Din shoved the Crest into reverse, dipped down and looped in a crazy spiral. The TIE’s lasers missed and before it could catch up and aim again, Din blasted one of its wings off. The fighter spun out of control, giving a Din time to line up another shot. This one hit the cockpit, which exploded. The Razor Crest drifted to a halt, shields rattling as bits of debris from the TIEs struck like a meteor shower.

“Hold on,” Din said. “I have no idea if there are more of them around here. I’m going to jump to lightspeed just to get some distance between us before I check the ship. Things might get rough depending on how much damage we took.”

He punched several buttons, flipped a switch and then slammed the lightspeed lever back. The Crest lurched forward, pressing them back into their seats with inertia. The ship bucked and shimmied a bit, but the lightspeed engines held up, and Din sat back.

The kid was cowering against Mariana’s chest, but now that streaks of starlight were filling the forward windows, he pricked up his ears and started cooing. Din took a moment to check that they were okay, then turned his attention back to the control panel.

“We’ll stay in lightspeed a bit longer, then drop out and see if we can find an out of the way planet to get some repairs,” he said. “Doesn’t look too bad, but the starboard engine needs some help and we may have some minor hull damage that needs to be repaired before it gets any worse.”

“Why would TIE fighters attack us?” Mariana asked. “I thought the Republic had destroyed most of the Imperial outposts.”

Din was quiet for longer than she liked. He hadn’t told her much about his past, just that he’d been a bounty hunter, and given her a brief rundown of how he’d come to acquire the Child, and been charged by the leader of his covert to take him as a Foundling. Clearly, there was more to the story.

He abruptly swiveled his chair toward her and began to talk. He told her about Moff Gideon and his Death Troopers, about the desperate fight to escape, his near brush with death, IG-11’s sacrifice, and his battle with Gideon’s TIE fighter. His words were clipped, emotionless, and matter of fact, but Mariana could sense the emotion he was holding back behind them. 

“Karga messaged me a few weeks later,” he continued. “Some Jawas came in with TIE parts and a story about being interrupted in their scavenging by a man in black emerging from the wreckage. Apparently, Gideon survived. Cara tried to track him down, but the Jawas took their time coming into town and the trail was cold.”

“So, these TIE fighters could have been Troopers loyal to this Moff Gideon? He’s still looking for ad’ika?” She clutched the kid to her. 

Din nodded. “Which is why I want to lay low. I’m sorry you got dragged into this, but …”

The Crest shuddered violently and dropped out of hyperspace with a jolt. Din spun back to the control panel. “Hyperdrive is out,” he sighed. “But we got some distance from the TIEs, at least.” He pulled up a star chart. “Hmmm … Yavin 4 is the closest place with a decent spaceport. I usually avoid Republic strongholds, but it used to be a Rebel base, so not much chance of Imperial sympathizers. Should be safe enough.” He locked in the coordinates and turned back to her. “About 12 hours without lightspeed, but I think the Crest will hold up.”

*******************

Din had been to Yavin 4 once or twice before, but as he’d told Mariana, it was tricky to conduct Guild business on planets with such a strong New Republic presence. It was a beautiful place, though; lush and tropical with ancient stone temples peeking through the vegetation. 

They landed the Razor Crest at the largest spaceport, which had once been a Rebel base. Lots of pilots and mechanics, which meant it shouldn’t be hard to find someone to repair the ship quickly. His finances would take a sizable hit, but hopefully once the ship was back in shape, he could pick up a couple of small jobs. Nothing too dangerous, not with Mariana and the kid aboard, but he was sure he could find something.

After locating a mechanic and dickering over the price (why did they always want to charge extra to not use droids?), Din went back into the ship to fetch Mariana and the kid. It would take most of a day for the repairs, so they might as well enjoy the sights.

“Bring your blaster,” he told Mariana as she pulled on her jacket.

“Are you sure? I’m still a terrible shot. And I thought Yavin 4 was safe.”

“It is, but bring it anyway.” Din knew that even though the Republic had a strong presence on Yavin, there was always the possibility of Imperial spies. 

They left the ship and crossed the landing field on their way toward the town. It was a busy place and several small ships landed as they walked. An A-wing touched down a few hundred feet away. The hatch had barely popped when a small, dark-haired blur tumbled down the ladder and darted right in front of them.

“Poe Dameron, get back here!” The boy skidded to a halt, almost colliding with Din.

“But, Mom! Look at that cool X-wing over there! I’m gonna fly one like that some day.”

A woman in a flight suit hurried up. “I see it, kiddo, but you almost ran into these people.” She grabbed him by the shoulders and ducked her head at Din and Mariana. “I apologize for my son. He’s obsessed with flight. I have no idea why …” She shook her head with a laugh and held out her hand. “Shara Bey. And you’ve met Poe.”

The boy looked up at Din, having managed to tear his eyes away from the X-wing, “Are you a Mandalorian? Your armor is so cool! What kind of rifle is that?” 

Din was taken aback by the boy’s forwardness. He looked to be only about 7 or 8 years old, but he had no qualms about talking to a heavily armed stranger, something Din would never have done at that age.

Fortunately, Mariana came to his rescue. “Nice to meet you, Shara,” she said, shaking the woman’s hand. “I’m Mariana, and this is Din and Ad’ika.” She turned to the boy. “And yes, Poe, Din is a Mandalorian. Which means he’s not much on small talk.” 

Shara laughed. “Sounds like my husband. And speaking of which, we’d better get home, Poe. You know how your dad worries when I take you up.”

“But, Mom! Home is boring. I want to look at all the ships.” His dark eyes kept dancing over the port, taking in the array of spacecraft. 

“You can look at the ships another day,” Shara said. “The spaceport isn’t going anywhere.” The boy looked up at her with pleading eyes, and she sighed. “Okay, fifteen minutes. And don’t bother anyone!” Poe was already halfway to the X-wing by the time the last word was out of her mouth. She shook her head. “That boy’s going to be the death of me. I don’t know how I’m going to handle him when he gets old enough to fly on his own.”

Mariana chuckled. “He seems like a good kid, just full of energy. My cousin Timmin was like that around that age. Couldn’t sit still to save his life, but he calmed down when he got a little older.” 

Din stood awkwardly as the two women chatted for a few more minutes. Shara admired the kid, and he showed her his Froggy. It was all very friendly and natural, as if they were two old friends catching up. Finally, Shara excused herself to go extricate her son from the landing gear of the X-wing, which he’d climbed up to get a closer look at what a droid mechanic was doing.

Mariana urged the kid to wave goodbye, then turned back to Din.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Just … talk to people. Chat. You’ve never met that woman before. How do you know what to say?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, you just … do it. Maybe I get it from my dad. He could talk to anyone; Mom always said he’d never met a stranger.” 

Din started walking again, not sure what to say. He couldn’t really remember much about his own parents. The Mandalorians who raised him had been more concerned with teaching him how to fight than how to talk to people. Maybe Mariana could teach him about small talk; he certainly couldn’t be any worse at it than she was at shooting.

**************  
It had been a lovely day, but Mariana still felt on edge. The blaster tucked away in its holster beneath her jacket reminded her that Din and the kid were targets, and so was she as long as she was with them. The encounter with the TIE fighters had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. It was one thing to be attacked by thieves in a marketplace, and quite another to be hunted by Imperial Troopers. Every time she caught a glimpse of white out of the corner of her eye, her hand drifted toward her blaster. She couldn’t shake the memory of Storm Troopers devastating her hometown. She’d been through a lot in the last dozen years, but the thing that always made her blood run cold was the thought of the Empire. Even though the Rebellion had defeated the Emperor, the shadow of the Empire still stretched across much of the galaxy.

Din was carrying the kid as they headed back toward the ship. The mechanic had commed to say the repairs were finished, and he was eager to get back aboard. Mariana trailed slightly behind, caught up in her thoughts. She’d been happy enough so far, but how long would it last? The kid was adorable, and she enjoyed taking care of him. Din was still a bit of an enigma to her. One moment he was every inch the dispassionate soldier, the next he was sitting on the floor playing ball with his ad’ika. She wasn’t sure if he thought of her as a friend or just a crewmate. Sometimes she almost thought he was flirting with her, but it was hard to tell with his face hidden by the helmet and the slight distortion of the vo-coder.

He’d told her she could leave any time she wanted, and maybe it was time, before she got even more attached to the kid. She was free now, and Yavin 4 seemed like a good place. She could probably find a job easily enough, and once she wasn’t associated with Din anymore, there would be no reason to fear the remnants of the Empire. 

They reached the Razor Crest. Din set the kid down so he could toddle up the ramp. Her heart clenched as she watched Din slow down to match his son’s pace. Stars, she would miss them.

When they reached the top of the ramp, the kid disappeared inside, but Din turned to look at her where she still stood at the foot of the ramp. “What are you waiting for?” he asked. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I … I think I’m going to stay,” she managed to say.

Din was at the bottom of the ramp in a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I think it’s time. You said I could leave any time I wanted. And just think, without me around, you can have your helmet off anytime you want. You and the kid can be a family all the time, not just when I’m hiding in my bunk…”

Din grabbed her hand. “No. No, you can’t leave. I need you …” He stopped, squeezed her hand tightly, took a deep breath and started again. “We still need you. I can’t leave him alone, and I’ll never find his people without your help. Please … don’t go.”

Mariana was stunned. She’d never expected him to beg her to stay. There was a raw edge to his voice, and he clutched at her hand like a drowning man hoping to be saved. Was it possible he really _had_ been flirting with her? Did he have feelings for her? And more importantly … did she have feelings for him?

“You’re right,” she said. “You hired me to do a job and it’s not finished. I … I just got scared.” She squeezed his hand back, feeling the leather of his glove creak against her skin. 

“The Imps,” he said, releasing her hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you … or the kid. We’ll find some place to lay low for a bit. Gideon won’t find us.”

She nodded and followed him up the ramp. She wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t naive. Moff Gideon had walked away from a crashed ship. He was Imperial. He would not give up so easily. Still, Mariana would rather be on the run with Din and Ad’ika than safe and alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up between our protagonists. I prefer to give my characters a bit of privacy, but feel free to imagine as much or as little as you like! :)

They resumed their normal routine once they were back in space, but something felt different to Mariana. Maybe she was just hyper aware of Din now, but it seemed like he spent less time in the cockpit and more time down in the hold area with her and the kid. He’d also started touching her now and then. Just a hand on her shoulder if he leaned in to look at something she showed him on her data pad, or a light touch on the back as he went by in a narrow passageway. She wouldn’t have thought anything of it before Yavin 4, but now she found herself wasting time analyzing every interaction instead of concentrating on her research.

And the research was paying off. None of the older documents had held much of interest, but now she was skimming through recent Senate files and had found several references to requests for funding for a new Jedi academy or temple (the two terms were used almost interchangeably). Two names kept popping up: Skywalker and Organa. Senator Leia Organa was the one who either introduced the motions or seconded them. Mariana did some research on her and discovered that it was her brother, Luke Skywalker, who had been instrumental in the Rebel Alliance’s victory over the Empire, who was spearheading the Jedi project. It was unclear if he was a Jedi himself, or just a scholar who was researching the Order. Still, it was the best lead she’d found.

Mariana spent the better part of a day drafting a letter to Senator Organa’s office. She didn’t want to say too much, in case the message was intercepted by Gideon’s spies, but she wanted to make it clear to the senator that this was a serious inquiry. Even if Skywalker could just give her access to some of the research he’d conducted, it would be a great help.

When she finished the letter and sent it winging on its way through the HoloNet, she put the pad away and went in search of Din and the kid. They were in the cockpit, and as she climbed the ladder she heard Din speaking softly. “Sounds good. I’ll be there in about … 8 hours.”

She peeked into the cockpit. The kid was curled up asleep in the co-pilot’s seat, which explained why Din was talking quietly. “Who was that?” she asked.

Din turned, glancing first to make sure the kid wasn’t being disturbed. “I got a job. Just some bodyguard work for a local warlord who has a meeting with his chief rival and doesn’t quite trust her. Thinks having a Mandalorian present will give her and her crew second thoughts about pulling anything.” He shrugged. “It’s not Guild work, but it’ll pay for fuel.”

Mariana settled into the third seat. “Do you miss it? Bounty hunting?”

“Yes. And no. I miss the simplicity of it: get a puck, find the asset, deliver it, get paid. But it was lonely work. Ever since he came along,” he gestured at the sleeping child, “I’ve gotten used to having something else to think about, someone else to put first. My life would be a hell of a lot easier if I’d never found him, but I don’t regret a thing.”

She leaned forward and squeezed his hand. “Good. I’d hate to think about what would have happened to him if you hadn’t come along.”

Din looked down at their hands. Mariana started to pull away, but he held on. “Yeah, about that … I didn’t tell you the whole story.” He took a deep breath. “I turned him in. I gave him over to the client in exchange for a bunch of beskar.” He tapped his free hand against his armor. When he continued to speak, his voice was ragged. “I sold him. I sold him and took the beskar and got a shiny new suit of armor … like a good Mandalorian. But I couldn’t leave him there. I just couldn’t. I know what it’s like to be young and all alone in the world …”

Mariana got up from her chair and kneeled in front of him, still clutching his hand. “And that’s why he’s lucky. You could have walked away, but you didn’t. You saved him, just like you saved me.”

“Thank you,” Din said. He gave her hand an extra squeeze, then sat up straight. “Well, I’d better give the arsenal a once over before we arrive. Not sure what I’ll need, so it’s better to be prepared for anything.” He stood up and gestured at the pilot’s chair. “Can you watch him while I work?”

“Of course,” she said. Once he had left the cockpit, she settled gingerly in the seat. It was still warm and she let herself lean back into it. She’d never been in the pilot’s seat of a spacecraft before, and she felt out of place. Then she looked over at the   
sleeping child and realized this was exactly where she wanted to be.

*********************  
Din stumbled up the ramp, gritting his teeth against the pain. The client had left out the part where he was just an _aspiring_ local warlord, and that he and Din would be facing a crew of more than a dozen mercenaries, many of them quite large and lethal. 

“What happened?” Mariana cried out as she caught sight of him. The kid squawked and dropped Froggy, running toward him. “Da!”

Din waved them away, shutting the ramp behind him. “Nothing. Just … the job was a little more complicated than I was led to believe. I got paid, though, and that’s what matters.” He lowered himself onto a crate, trying not to hiss out in pain. He didn’t think any ribs were broken, but he’d have some lovely bruises in a day or two. Mostly, it was his hand that was the problem.

One of the mercs had surprised him with a wickedly long vibroknife and managed to slash a sizable gash into his left hand. The glove was soaked with blood and the hand throbbed with pain.

“That’s not nothing,” Mariana scolded. “You’re bleeding! Let me get the medkit.”

The kid crawled up into Din’s lap, reaching for his injured hand. “It’s okay, ad’ika, you don’t need to do that. Mariana will patch me up just fine.” The kid looked up with somber eyes, but pulled back his hand. Din snuggled him close with his right arm. He didn’t want the kid to waste precious energy on a minor wound.

Mariana came back with an array of medical supplies in her arms. She spilled them out on the floor as she went down on her knees in front of him. “Let’s get that glove off first so I can see how bad it is.” She peeled the tight leather off his hand, exposing the bloody slash across his palm. His hand trembled a little as she took it in hers. He told himself it was just the pain, but he was lying. Just that small bit of exposed skin left him feeling naked and raw.

“I don’t think it cut any tendons or anything,” she said, “but it’s a nasty cut. I’d better cauterize it after I clean it.”

“Do what you have to do,” he said. 

The kid nodded solemnly. “Ma.”

Din watched with a feeling of detachment as Mariana washed the blood from his hand, poured on disinfectant, then picked up the cauterizer. She was shaking as she ran the instrument along the wound, but he hardly felt it as the laser beam sealed the edges of raw flesh. When she was done, she covered the wound with fresh gauze and wound more gauze around his hand to hold it in place. 

“There,” she said. She looked up at him, her face pale with worry. 

“Thank you,” he said. A strand of her hair had fallen in her face, as usual, and without thinking he reached out with his bandaged hand and tucked it behind her ears. _Stars, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages._

As he started to pull back, she reached up and held his hand in place so he was lightly cupping her face. She turned her head slightly and pressed a kiss against his wrist. “Just don’t do that again,” she said softly. “You scared the crap out of me, running in here with blood all over.”

“I’ll try not to,” he managed to say. As her lips touched the skin of his wrist, he’d stopped breathing for a long moment and it was hard to talk around the tightening in his throat. It terrified him, but he wanted more.

She brought his hand down and patted the bandage. “You go relax with Ad’ika while I clean up this mess,” she said, gesturing at the aftermath of their first aid session. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

******************  
 _Did that just happen_? she thought as she nervously put the medical supplies away in the cabinet. She ran a little water in the sink and splashed some on her face. It was cold and helped calm her down a bit. It had been an impulse, just a natural thing to do when his hand caressed her face. _I hope I didn’t ruin whatever it is we have going on_. She pulled out the little mirror and looked at her face, hoping her emotions didn’t show. _Oh, who are you trying to fool? You want this so badly, even the kid can probably see it_. She sighed, rubbed her hand over her eyes and tried to shove the thoughts away. 

Din was in his bunk with the kid when she came out of the ‘fresher, which she was glad of. She puttered around a bit until it was time to fix some supper. When the food was ready, she knocked on the bunk door. There was no answer, so she pressed the lock to open the door. Din was sprawled out on the bed, with Ad’ika curled up on his breastplate. They were both asleep and she didn’t have the heart to wake them. 

She ate her own meal in the galley for a change, and set their portions aside for later. She was curled up in bed reading when Din finally emerged from his room, sounding adorably sleepy. “What time is it? Why didn’t you wake us for supper?” Ad’ika was yawning against his boot. 

“You didn’t answer my knock, so I figured you needed the sleep. I fixed you both a plate; just heat it up for a few minutes in the cooker.”

“Thanks,” he said, shuffling off with the kid in tow. He stopped and turned back. “For everything.” He fiddled with the bandage on his hand and she realized he’d removed the right glove as well. 

“What are friends for?” she replied. As he continued toward the galley, she turned her attention back to her pad but she found it hard to concentrate. _What the hell_ , she thought, typing in a new search: Mandalorian AND romantic customs.

*******************  
Din had finished supper, but he was reluctant to put his helmet back on. He was used to going without it at meal times now, and he knew the kid enjoyed seeing his face, especially when Din made silly faces at him to get him to finish his meal. It still felt good to slip it back on, though, but not tonight. He looked down at his ungloved hands, one bandaged and the other not. He knew what his hands looked like; he saw them every day when he washed up. Now he wondered what Mariana thought of them. There were no strictures in the creed about letting anyone see your bare hands, but Din had always felt more comfortable being covered from head to toe. He felt stronger, less vulnerable. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but he felt like he’d bared a piece of his soul when she kissed his hand. _And you want to kiss her back_ , he realized. _That’s why you don’t want to put the helmet back on_. He sighed. It wasn’t possible. _This is the Way_ , he told himself as he put the helmet back on. 

He washed up the dishes and then knocked on her door, as usual. “I’ll be out in a minute,” she called. He was still deciding whether to go up to the cockpit or start cleaning his rifle so he wouldn’t have to talk to her when she emerged from her bunk, data pad in hand.

“So, I’ve been reading some … interesting things this evening.” She sat down at the table and Din reluctantly joined her.

“About what?”

“Have you ever heard of a story called ‘The _Yamika_ ’?”

“The Chamber? No.” He wondered why she was reading Mando’a stories.

“Well, the translation I found calls it ‘The Bedchamber.’” She shifted in her chair, leaning forward and taking his uninjured hand in hers. Her thumb rubbed lazy circles across his palm as she talked. “It’s basically Mandalorian smut, which I didn’t realize at first, but it’s got an intriguing premise. There’s this very devout couple who create a room with no windows, no lights.” Her hand drifted up to his wrist. “They can take off their helmets without violating the creed. And I was thinking … when the shutter’s down, my bunk gets really, really dark.”

She patted his hand and slid the data pad across the table. “Just an idea,” she said, standing up. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to bed.” 

Din let out the breath he'd been holding. He stared down at his hand. “What do you think, ad’ika?”

The kid offered him Froggy. Din sighed. “You’re no help.”

*******************  
Mariana buried her head under her pillow. It had been well over an hour since she’d left Din sitting at the table and she was starting to regret her actions. Maybe she’d misread him. Maybe his devotion to his creed was too strong, or maybe he was tempted but didn’t think she was worth it. 

She was just about to open the shutter a bit so she could look out at the stars when she heard the door slide open. Din always knocked first, so it startled her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said. She froze; his voice was unmodulated. “I … I thought … “

“You thought right,” she blurted out. 

The door slid shut behind him as he crossed the room. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was right there next to the bed. She sat up and reached out for him. Her hands found his face and pulled it close. “You have a mustache!” she said.

He laughed. “Yes.” And then he kissed her. 

When they came up for air, his face was wet. “Are you crying?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “I think … I think I’m happy.”

So she kissed him again.

**********************  
Din knew he should go back to his own bunk, but he didn’t want to move. Mariana was asleep, her head nestled against his shoulder and her arm draped across his chest. It felt wonderful and frightening to be so close to her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much skin to skin contact and it was intoxicating. Actually, he’d _never_ had this much; he’d been with women before, but they had always been hurried affairs, usually after the heat of battle and of course the helmet had stayed on. This was something entirely different. 

He stroked her hair and she snuggled closer. _I could get used to this_ , he thought. Still, he should get back to his own bunk before the kid woke up. Maybe just a little bit longer.

*********************  
When Mariana woke up in the morning, Din was gone. She’d expected as much, but she was still a bit disappointed. The door to her room was open and she heard him talking quietly to the kid. She stretched, fished her pajamas off the floor and pulled them back on. 

Din and Ad’ika were in the galley, the remains of their breakfast still on the table. The helmet was back on. A bowl of porridge waited for her, along with the last piece of fresh fruit. “Ma!” the kid cried out when he saw her. 

“Good morning,” Din said, shyly.

“Good morning.” She slid into the chair across from him and reached out to take his hand. He laced his fingers through hers and they held hands in silence while she ate. The kid looked from one of them to the other, with an oddly satisfied look on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Din said eventually.

“For what? Last night was amazing.”

He gestured at his helmet with his bandaged hand. “I’m just … not ready …”

She stopped him with an upraised hand. “Don’t apologize for being you. I understand. Really, I do. Besides...,” she reached out to stroke Ad’ika’s ear. “I don’t mind if you’re the only one who gets to see Daddy’s face, as long as I get the rest of him.” She winked at Din.

“Sounds like a good deal to me,” he said.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Han Solo and Chewbacca for their cameos :) Slight reference to past non consensual sex but blink and you’ll miss it.

Once again, the daily routine on the Razor Crest changed subtly. Din still ate with the kid, with Mariana eating in her bunk, but he had stopped wearing his gloves completely and after a few days, she noticed he was leaving off bits of armor when he got dressed. They held hands when they were sitting near each other, and every night, after putting the kid to bed, he slipped into her bunk. 

The biggest change was that, as they lay tangled together in the dark, Din started to talk. Really talk. He told her what little he remembered of his parents, of the battle in which he lost them, of the Mandalorians who adopted him. He told her about his training, about some of the crazy jobs he’d done both before and after he’d joined the Guild. He told her things she knew he’d never told anyone else, and even some things she suspected he hadn’t even admitted to himself.

In return, she told him about her family, the friends she’d known both in her hometown and at the Collegium. And she told him about her years as a slave, about the men and women who had bought and sold her like she was a droid, about the owners who had … well, he held her extra tightly and kissed her so gently after she told those stories. 

They talked about their pasts, but never about the future. In the dark, it was all about the moment and sharing everything that had led up to it. 

********************  
When the message pinged on her data pad, Mariana wasn’t sure whether to believe it. She’d expected a generic response from the Senator’s office along the lines of “Thank you for your interest in the workings of the New Republic Senate …” This, however, was a personal message from the Senator herself.

“She’s offered to let us meet with a representative, who will help her determine whether or not to reveal her brother’s location,” she told Din. 

He transferred the rendezvous coordinates from her data pad to the ship’s computer. “It’s an asteroid field in the middle of nowhere. We can be there in a couple of days.”

“Should I tell her it’s a go?”

“Yeah. It’s the best lead we’ve gotten.” He looked over at the kid. She reached out and took his hand. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, rubbing her thumb against his palm the way he liked. 

“Yes. We need to find out who he is, where he comes from. And he’ll need training to control his powers eventually. Who knows how long he’ll live, or when he’ll be mature enough to live on his own.” He sighed. “I know I’ll be long gone before then. He needs a backup plan, at the very least.”

She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. One of the things he’d told her was how much he loved the little green child, how his life had been turned completely upside down and sideways and how he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye. She slipped into his lap and wrapped her free arm around his neck, pressing her cheek against the cold steel of his helmet. 

“It’ll be okay, Din. We’ll do what’s best for him. _You’ll_ do what’s best for him, because that’s what fathers do.”

He pulled his hand away from hers and wrapped both arms around her. “That’s what _parents_ do,” he said softly. They sat there in the cockpit, watching their child play with his Froggy, enjoying the moment.

**************  
They reached the asteroid field slightly ahead of schedule, so Din put the ship in orbit around the largest planetoid to save on fuel. It would be about eight hours until the agreed upon rendezvous time.

The kid was oblivious, and Mariana was absorbed in her data pad as usual, but Din was nervous. He had no idea who they were meeting, how the meeting would go, or even if seeking out this Skywalker was a good idea. As much as he told himself that the best thing for the kid was to find his homeworld and reunite him with his own kind, it still hurt to think about saying goodbye. So he fretted and tried to keep himself busy until Mariana came over and took his hand.

“It’ll be okay,” she said. 

“I know.”

They sat beside each other in silence until the proximity alarm went off. Their contact had just dropped out of hyperspace.

It was a slightly battered Corellian freighter, vaguely saucer-shaped. Not exactly a government issue ship; clearly this contact was not an official member of the senator’s staff. 

“Millennium Falcon hailing the … um, Razor Crest. Prepare to initiate docking procedure.” There was a slight pause while someone (or something) roared quietly in the background. “Yeah, I was getting to that, keep your shirt on Chewie.” This was followed by another roar. “It’s an expression, I’m quite aware that you don’t wear shirts … Razor Crest, do you copy?”

“Copy that, Millennium Falcon,” Din replied. “Ready for docking.”

“That’s a go, Razor Crest. Transmitting authorization codes now. And Senatorial credentials — see, Chewie, I didn’t forget — Millennium Falcon out.”

A string of codes appeared on the control panel and Din keyed in his own codes to allow them to run. The two ships began to rotate slowly as they lined up their docking ports. Din pulled his gloves on; he’d put on every piece of his armor when he’d gotten dressed that morning, but he’d left the gloves for last. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

Mariana nodded. She had her jacket on to hide the blaster holstered over her shirt. Din felt a surge of warmth. She’d never really be a warrior, but he was proud of how far his girl had come.

The ship chirped to indicate that docking was complete. Mariana picked up the kid and they went down the ladder to the port, which was set into the floor. It irised open and Din checked that his blaster was loose in its holster before he stepped through and found the top rung of the ladder that led into the Falcon.

***************  
Mariana followed Din through the docking port. It was a bit tricky to descend the ladder while carrying the kid, but she managed to do okay until she got to the next to last rung. Her foot slipped and she started to fall, but Din caught her before she hit the floor. “Sorry,” she said. 

“Welcome to the Millennium Falcon.” They turned to see a roguish looking, handsome, dark haired man slouched in the doorway. Behind him loomed a Wookiee, which explained the roaring they’d heard earlier. “Han Solo, at your service,” he said with a wicked grin. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “And this walking carpet is Chewbacca.”

“Din Djarin. And this is Mariana Loxli.” Mariana stepped out from behind Din, and the kid waved cheerily at the strangers.

Solo’s eyes widened. “I’ll be damned, Leia wasn’t kidding.” Chewie growled softly in agreement. “Yeah, I know,” Solo said, walking toward them to take a closer look at the child. Mariana saw Din tense up and she laid a hand gently on his arm. He relaxed a bit, but stayed alert.

“Luke’s definitely going to want to see this,” Solo said. 

“You know Skywalker?” Mariana asked.

Solo laughed. “Well, yeah. He’s my brother in law,” he drawled. 

“Wait … you’re the senator’s husband?” She had expected an aide or maybe even a former Rebellion pilot, but not someone so close to Senator Organa.

“Leia didn’t want to give this job to just anybody,” Solo said. “If what you said was true — which it clearly is — it needs to be kept quiet.”

“Why?” Din said sharply. “What do you know about him?”

Solo spread out his hands. “I don’t _know_ anything. But we suspect … well , it’s probably better to let Luke handle this.” He turned to Chewie. “Send a comm to Leia and ask her to transmit the coordinates.” The Wookiee nodded and disappeared.

“Come on in and have a seat,” Solo said. “It might take a little while. We're kind of in the back of beyond out here.” He gestured for them to precede him down the passageway, which led to a fairly spacious cabin. He slid into the semicircular booth that surrounded a holographic chess table, waiting for them to join him. 

Din hesitated before taking a seat across from Solo, letting Mariana and the kid sit on his outside. She was surprised he’d let himself take such a tactically poor position. It was clear he didn’t entirely trust Solo.

*******************  
Din didn’t quite trust Solo. He’d dealt with plenty of guys like him: cocky, quick with the charm, and always out for themselves. He claimed to be the senator’s husband, but they’d seen no proof of that. Granted, the senatorial credentials had checked out, but he could still be some smuggler the senator had hired. There were lots of shady characters who had helped out the Rebellion and reaped the rewards when the New Republic came to power. 

As usual, Mariana easily engaged in small talk with the freighter captain, who lounged back in his seat, arms spread out across the back of the booth, with a sexy grin on his face. Din slipped his arm around Mariana’s waist, pulling her a bit closer. No, he did not like Han Solo at all.

The kid was getting bored and Mariana asked if she could let him down to play. Solo nodded, and she let him slide out of her lap onto the floor. Immediately, he darted away, probably attracted by some shiny object. “Hey, wait for me!” Mariana cried, scrambling after him.

Solo gave Din an appraising look. “Leia said it was the kid’s caregiver who had written to her, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say she’s more than just the babysitter.” He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“You would be correct,” Din said, grudgingly.

Solo smiled. “And you don’t like me very much.”

“Not really, no.”

Solo shook his head, chuckling. “Hey, relax. I’m a happily married man. And my wife is more than capable of killing me single handedly if I were to step out of line. Not to mention what Chewie would do to me. Dude looks like a big scary brute but he’s a hopeless romantic at heart.”

He leaned forward. “And I’m a dad, just like you. My boy’s a bit older than yours, but I know what it’s like dealing with a toddler.” Just then the kid dashed by, giggling wildly, with Mariana in hot pursuit, begging him to put down whatever he’d found.

Din suppressed a laugh. He was still wary of the other man, but he was inclined to believe him. “Fair enough,” he said.

“By the way, Chewie loves kids. He babysits Ben all the time. We’re going to go with you, to introduce you to Luke, so if you want to leave the kid here on the Falcon so you two can have some alone time …” He winked. 

Din shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

“Think about what?” Mariana asked, sliding back into the booth with the kid held tight in her arms.

Solo grinned. “I was just telling your boyfriend here that Chewie and I would be happy to babysit the kiddo while we travel to wherever Luke’s hiding himself these days, if you guys want some ‘grown-up’ time. Trust me, I know how hard it is when you’ve got a little one underfoot.” 

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” she said, sliding a hand down Din’s thigh while shooting him a sideways glance. “But you’ve got to watch him carefully. He’s Force-sensitive and faster than he looks.”

Solo laughed. “So’s my boy. Scared the shit out of me the first time he used the Force to pick something up.” He shook his head ruefully. “I knew what kind of family I was marrying into, but when you realize your kid’s gonna be a Jedi … well, it takes some getting used to.”

Din stiffened at the word Jedi. Mariana squeezed his hand and leaned forward. “So Skywalker _is_ a Jedi.”

“Yeah,” said Solo. “Got the robes and the light saber and everything. Still a pain in my ass sometimes, though.” 

Chewbacca returned, growling something at Solo. “All right, we should get an answer back within the hour. So, Chewie, you wanna babysit the kid for a while?”

The Wookiee roared and gurgled, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah,” said Solo. “That’s why I thought of it.” He turned to Din with a mischievous grin. “Told you he’s a hopeless romantic.”

Chewie reached out for the kid, growling so softly at him it was almost a purr. The child went to him with no hesitation, chattering back. He looked so tiny in the giant Wookiee’s arms. Din was concerned for his safety until he saw how gentle Chewie was with him. 

“Looks like Ad’ika thinks it’s a good idea, too,” said Mariana. “I’ll go get his toys and a few other things from the Razor Crest.” Before Din could open his mouth, she was gone. 

Solo smirked. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I have a weakness for strong women, too. Still took me a while to get used to being bossed around.”

Din clenched his hand to resist drawing his blaster. “I do not get ‘bossed around’,” he said levelly. 

Solo leaned forward. “Word of advice. If you’re serious about this woman, get used to having her call the shots on all the family stuff. Cause if you don’t, she’ll go all mama bear on you and you do _not_ want to mess with a mama bear.”

Din had had about enough of Han Solo. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up. He headed for the hatch and climbed up into the Razor Crest. Mariana was just about to come down, and he stopped her. “Do you really think this is a good idea? Leaving ad’ika with them?”

She looked puzzled. “Why not? Chewbacca clearly adores him. And my aunt once said you never refuse an offer of free babysitting.” She smiled. “Besides, I think we could use a bit of alone time, don’t you?” She laid her hand against his breastplate and moved closer.

Din stepped back, which brought a hurt look to her face. “I just don’t quite trust this Solo fellow ,” he said.

“Why not?”

He struggled to articulate his misgivings. “I’ve dealt with people like him before, guys who get by on their looks and charm, and how do we know he’s not trying to con us? They could give us fake coordinates, take off with the kid …”

“He won’t do that,” she insisted.

“How do you know? Why do you trust him so easily?” He struggled to control his temper, something that was normally easy to do. He prided himself on being calm in the worst situations, but something here was rattling his nerves. “Is it because he’s been flirting with you? I mean, he keeps saying he’s ‘happily married,’ but happily married men don’t carry on like that.”

Mariana laughed. “You’re jealous,” she said. “Oh, stars, you’re _jealous_!” She shook her head. “I knew a lot of guys like Han Solo at the Collegium. They’d flirt with a fencepost; that’s just how they are.” She stepped closer and laid her hand on the side of his helmet. “Even if he wasn’t married, you have nothing to worry about. It’s you I’m in love with.”

He couldn’t breathe. “You … you’re in love with me?” he managed to say. He’d hoped for it, but couldn’t quite convince himself it could ever be true. After all, no one else had ever loved him except his parents, who were kind of required to, and the kid, who had a very limited experience with the world despite his 50 years.

“Of course, you idiot,” she said. “Why else would I put up with you?” 

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to say it back, but the words wouldn’t come. So he just stood there. When the silence had grown from awkward to extremely awkward, he blurted out, “Why?”

“What do you mean, _why_?” she said. 

He gestured vaguely at himself, his armor, the cluttered ship. “I mean, look at me. What woman in her right mind would ever be attracted to _this_? You don’t even know what I look like. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to take off the helmet around you. I’m …” He knew he was babbling but he couldn’t help himself.

She laid her hand against the front of his helmet, where his babbling lips would have been if the beskar hadn’t lain between them. “I know that you’re broken, Din.” His heart sank, until she went on. “I’m broken, too. You’re just broken more badly than I am because your world exploded in your face when you were a kid. I was an adult when my life fell apart, and I still have a ton of issues. It takes time to heal, and I’m willing to wait however long it takes. And if I never get to see your face, who cares? I’ll love you anyway. Because the old saying is true: love is blind.”

Din was shaking. He put his arms around her and pressed his helmet against her forehead. _What did I ever do to deserve her_?, he wondered. “I’m in love with you, too,” he said softly.

“I know,” she said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Luke Skywalker and R2-D2 for their cameos. The helmet *almost* comes off for good but fate intervenes.

The Razor Crest and Millennium Falcon landed next to each other on a windy stretch of coastline on the planet Florian. It was sparsely populated, especially on this part of the northern continent. Mariana hurried down the ramp, eager to get her hands back on Ad’ika. While she and Din had had an absolutely delicious time alone (she was not going to be able to enter the cockpit without blushing for a very long time), six hours was far too long to be away from her favorite child.

Chewbacca came down the ramp of the Falcon with Ad’ika in his arms. “Ma!” the child cried out when he saw her, making grabby hands and grinning madly. 

“Did you miss me, kiddo?” she asked, gathering him close. He chattered softly in that almost-language he used when he wanted to share something, and patted her face. “Da?”

“Daddy’s coming,” she told him. “He just has to finish putting all his armor back on.” The child cocked his head at her, then giggled. She blushed. “You definitely understand more than you let on, don’t you?” He looked innocently away from her, but gave her a sideways glance.

Solo exited the Falcon and joined Chewie. “At least this one isn’t a dust pit like Tatooine,” he said, looking around at the scrubby grassland that ran as far as the eye could see. “Luke does have an affinity for shitholes.” Chewie growled in agreement.

Din finally came down the ramp, every bit of beskar in place and perfectly polished. The wind whipped his cape back dramatically, but the effect was spoiled when Ad’ika tossed Froggy at him. “Da!” he demanded. Din caught the toy in midair and laughed. 

“Someone’s in a better mood now,” said Solo suggestively. Din didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he stepped closer and slipped his arm around Mariana’s waist. Ad’ika grabbed for Froggy and began a game of bopping them both on the head with the stuffed animal, reciting their names as he did so. “Da. Ma. Da. Ma. Ma. Da. Da. Da.”

They were distracted from the game by a loud roar from Chewie. The Wookiee raised an arm in greeting to a figure approaching from the near distance. It was a man cloaked in a grey hooded robe, only his hands and boots visible. He walked deliberately, without seeming to hurry at all, and yet he rapidly came closer. In just a few minutes, he was throwing back his hood and laughing. “Han, you scruffy old nerf herder! How’re Leia and Ben?” He was shorter than Solo, and several years younger. He threw his arms around his brother-in-law and Solo unceremoniously ruffled his sandy blond hair, which was desperately in need of a trim. Chewie growled happily and patted the newcomer on the back, nearly knocking both men over.

“This is the Jedi?” Din said quietly. 

Skywalker turned toward them with a quiet smile. He’d been in the midst of chatting with Solo and Chewie, yet he seemed to have heard the comment. “Yes, Mr. Djarin,” he said. “I am a Jedi. And this little fellow must be the reason you’re here.” He held out a hand toward the kid, who had forgotten all about Froggy. His big, dark eyes calmly regarded Skywalker, and he stretched out his own tiny hand.

The Jedi laughed. “Oh, really?” he said. He looked at Mariana and Din kindly. “He wants me to know that he can protect you if he has to. He clearly loves you both very much.” He extended his hand toward Mariana. “Luke Skywalker. And you are …?”

“Mariana Loxli,” she said, shaking his hand. 

His smile softened as he touched her hand, and his eyes darted between her and Din for a moment. “And you love each other very much,” he said quietly. Din’s arm tightened around her waist, but he remained silent. 

“Yeah, yeah, they’re a couple of real Artanian lovebirds,” said Solo. “Look, do you need us for anything, or can Chewie and I get out of here? Contrary to popular belief, I do miss my wife and kid.”

Skywalker rolled his eyes. “Nah, I think we’re good. Get your ass back home and don’t corrupt my nephew too much before I see him again. How I’ll ever make a Jedi out of him with you as his role model …”

Solo shook his head. “Love you, too, brother,” he said with a smirk. Then his smile turned wistful “Don’t stay out in the wilderness so long this time, kid. Leia misses you.” 

“I miss her, too,” said Skywalker. “I’ll try to get back before Ben’s birthday.”

Solo nodded, clearly uncomfortable with showing emotions in front of strangers. “Okay, then. Chewie, let's go home.” The Wookiee roared a farewell, patting Ad’ika gently on the head and ruffling Skywalker’s hair before he left.

They stood watching while the Falcon powered up and launched into the sky. 

************  
“Well,” said Skywalker once the Falcon was out of sight. “It’s a bit of a walk to the village, so if you have anything aboard you’re going to need in the next day or two, you might want to bring it with you.”

Din nodded. He did not feel defensive around the Jedi, even though by all rights he should be. In Mandalorian lore, the Jedi were enemies, but all Din felt when he looked at Skywalker was an odd sense of kinship. The younger man exuded equanimity, a soothing balance between a warrior’s readiness and a monk’s contemplative essence. 

It didn’t hurt that he had already acknowledged and honored Din’s relationship with Mariana. Din’s own acknowledgement of their love was still fresh and a bit fragile, and it felt good to have it validated by someone else. He was walking into entirely uncharted territory with her and it scared him. 

They fetched the bags that Mariana had prudently packed and followed Skywalker across the blustery scrubland. After a few hundred yards, the ground began to dip and as they rounded an outcropping of stone, the faint pathway dropped steeply into a hidden valley. Din dropped back as they made their way down the trail, which wasn’t wide enough for more than one person. If he couldn’t walk beside Mariana and Ad’ika, he would follow close behind to keep an eye on them. There were loose pebbles and worn spots on the trail, and he didn’t want her to slip. 

When they reached the bottom of the trail, they passed through a thicket of spindly trees. Once clear, they had a good view of a cluster of stone buildings near the far wall of the valley. They were not quite ruins, but had not been maintained for some time.

“Welcome to Arvala,” said Skywalker. “It was a Jedi outpost about 300 years ago, and a hunting camp until about 75 years ago. The Florianas used the buildings but avoided the caves, so they’re relatively undisturbed. I’ve found a few books and scrolls that got left behind.”

Mariana’s eyes lit up. “Are they in good shape? It seems a bit damp here for good preservation.”

“So-so,” replied Skywalker. “The bindings are rotted but a lot of the pages are still halfway legible. I’ve gotten pretty good at cobbling together bits and pieces of manuscripts.”

“If you need any help, just let me know. It’s been a while, but I took a conservation course and I really enjoyed it.”

Skywalker smiled. “Thanks. I’ll take any help I can get. But for now, let’s get you three settled.” He walked toward a tarp covered pile next to the closest building. “You’ll be here a few days, at least, so I flew over to the nearest settlement and got some bedding and other supplies. Nothing fancy, but you can set up a decent little apartment in one of the buildings. Take your pick. I’m over there.” He pointed at the largest building, which was set slightly apart from the others. “Sorry for taking the biggest room, but I didn’t know I was going to have company.”

He was interrupted by a loud, indignant beeping. An R2 droid rolled out of the building. Din stiffened involuntarily. _Not a droid_ , he groaned. 

“Okay, okay, Artoo, I didn’t know we were going to have company,” Skywalker said with a chuckle. “May I present R2-D2, the best astromech droid in the galaxy?”

The droid beeped and spun its head. The kid was entranced by the lights and noise. Din was less impressed. He let Mariana make pleasantries with the droid while he surveyed the buildings. Several had gaping holes in their roofs, which put them out of the running immediately, but the remaining three looked solid enough. He finally selected the one furthest from Skywalker’s encampment. It was smaller than the others, but the walls were all in place and it was tucked back against the cliff wall in a way that led him to believe it was the least weathered of them all. 

“Interesting choice.” Din stifled a flinch as he realized Skywalker had managed to sneak up on him. The Jedi cocked his head. “There are three of you, and yet you chose the smallest building.”

Din recognized a question even when it wasn’t posed as one. Skywalker reminded him a bit of one of the combat masters he’d had while growing up. He never asked a question directly, but nudged his students toward the answer nonetheless. “It’s small, but it appears to have the best structural integrity.” He pointed out the overhanging cliff wall. “It’s been more sheltered from the weather, so there’s been less erosion. It also backs up to the rock face, so it would be easier to defend in an attack.”

“And it’s the furthest away from mine, so you’re ensured privacy,” Skywalker said. “I know it’s hard for a Mandalorian to fully trust a Jedi, but I can assure you, Mr. Djarin, you have nothing to fear from me. Just because our ancestors were once enemies doesn’t mean we have to be.”

“I know,” Din admitted. “But …”

The Jedi nodded. “Old habits are hard to break. I understand. Get yourselves settled, then come to my room so we can talk. I may have some answers to your questions.”

He walked quietly away, leaving Din to start hauling the gear into the small building. Mariana and the kid were still chatting with the droid, which was beeping and booping away like an annoying toy, so he set up the room himself. There was just enough room for the self-inflating mattress, a small folding table and a pair of stools. He unrolled the bedding, set their packs near the foot of the bed and set Froggy between the pillows. They were sheltered from the wind down in this valley, but being so near the coast, he was sure it would get cold at night. Ad’ika would be snug and warm between them. 

******************  
“That droid is something else,” Mariana said as she finished unpacking their things. “Almost makes me wish I’d paid attention in Binary class.”

Din just grunted. He’d told her a bit about his dislike of droids, which she found understandable, if a bit severe. The R2 unit was a lot cuter than an assassin droid, after all.

“There,” she said, closing up the last of the packs. Most of the stuff they’d brought belonged to her and the kid … well, mostly her. Ad’ika had his toys and a blue blanket that he always slept with, and Din had an assortment of small weapons, but she had a couple of changes of clothes, her data pad, some snacks, toiletries … she might have packed too much, but she still wasn’t used to _having_ things to pack and it felt good to indulge a little. “Shall we go see what the illustrious Luke Skywalker has to say?”

Din scooped up the kid and they walked the short distance to the building where Skywalker and R2 were staying. It must have been the village hall, twice as big as any of the other buildings, with a large fire pit in the center of the floor. Something was bubbling in a pot hung over the fire. One end of the room held a cluttered sleeping area similar to theirs, while the other end looked more like a workshop. Bits of electronics and droid parts were scattered about on a workbench, where R2 was happily fiddling with a piece of equipment. Skywalker was sitting next to the fire pit, legs crossed, eyes closed. He appeared to be meditating. He also appeared to be floating about six inches off the floor.

He opened his eyes as they approached and sank to the ground. “All settled in? Then let’s get down to business.” He gestured for them to sit and they settled on the floor. Din made sure he was between her and the Jedi, and put Ad’ika in her lap. 

“You know something about my … son,” Din began. Mariana caught the slight hesitation and shifted a bit closer so that their knees and shoulders were touching. This was his conversation to have, but she wanted him to know she was there for him.

“A little,” Skywalker conceded. “I can’t tell you what species he is, because I don’t know what it’s called, but I do know he is the same species as Master Yoda.” He smiled fondly. “I always wondered what Yoda looked like in his younger days, and now I know.”

“Master Yoda,” Mariana said. “I saw that name a lot in the Old Republic senate records. He was one of the leaders of the Jedi, wasn’t he?” Skywalker nodded. “But those records were hundreds of years old and I never found any vids of him, or any physical descriptions. How do you know what he looked like?”

“He trained me in the ways of the Jedi. Don’t look so surprised. He was close to nine hundred years old when he died. I was his last student.” 

Din nodded. “We know our son is fifty years old and still an infant. If all his species are as long lived as this Master Yoda, it makes sense.” Mariana couldn’t help noticing he was no longer hesitant to call Ad’ika his son … and that he’d switched pronouns from “my” to “our.” She leaned a little closer.

“Unfortunately, Master Yoda never spoke about his home planet or his people. I was under the impression that he was the last of his kind, but obviously that’s not true. I can speak to him about this later.”

“I thought you said he was dead,” said Din.

“He is, but powerful Jedi can still interact with the living. For now, let me put your mind at ease, Mr. Djarin. I’m intrigued by your son, but I’m not ready to start taking students, not until I’ve gathered more information about the Jedi temples. I’ll be setting up an academy of sorts eventually, but even if it was up and running, he’s still much too young. The Jedi of old took children as padawans at a very young age, but I’m not so sure that was a good idea. Right now, what he needs is a father, not a teacher.”

Mariana felt Din relax against her. He reached out and took Ad’ika into his own lap. The child had been listening to Skywalker’s every word, but now he looked up at Din’s helmet with a smile. “ _Buir_ ,” he said carefully. Mariana felt tears come to her eyes. She didn’t know much Mando’a, but this was one of the words she knew Din had spent the most time trying to teach him to say. It meant “father.” 

**************  
Mariana ate dinner with Skywalker, while Din took his and Ad’ika’s back to their room. They sat at the tiny table, bowls of stew in front of them. Now that they were alone, he took off his helmet and wiped the tears from his face. “I hope you know what that meant to me, ad’ika,” he said shakily. He ran his hand through his hair, then pulled his gloves off and threw them on the ground. The child reached out and wrapped his tiny fingers around one of Din’s. “You do, don’t you?” he whispered. Again, a tiny knowing smile. A thought occurred to Din and it sent a small shiver down his spine. “You haven’t been playing Jedi mind tricks on me all this time, have you?” 

The child looked indignant, and Din immediately pushed the thought away. “No, of course not. Forgive me.” He pulled his bowl closer. “Let’s eat.”

By the time Mariana returned, he had replaced the helmet but shed the rest of his armor. He and Ad’ika were on the floor rolling the ball back and forth, and she dropped to the ground beside him to watch the game. “I still can’t believe he called you _buir_ ,” she said, twining her fingers through his and laying her head on his shoulder. 

“I know,” he replied. “He hasn’t said another word since, but he has that smug look on his face.” 

The kid took that opportunity to lose interest in the ball game and toddle over to the bed to get Froggy. Mariana swung her legs across Din’s and he let go of her hand to slide his arms around her. He leaned back against the wall, his helmet connecting with a low thud. “Is it wrong that I feel relieved that Skywalker said there likely aren’t any more of his kind?” 

“No. Just like it isn’t wrong that I feel relieved he doesn’t want to whisk him away and start training him.”

Din sighed and hugged her tighter. “I’ve been so worried that I was going to lose him,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “After all this, I … I can’t go back to being alone.”

She lifted his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss against it. “You’re never going to be alone, Din,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighed again, deeper this time. “You tried to leave once.”

“That was before I knew how much you meant to me, before I knew I loved you. I’m never going to leave you.” She kissed his hand again and he trembled. Maybe it was time. When she released his hand, he pulled it back and started to reach for the locks on his helmet. Before she noticed, there was a knock on the door, and Skywalker stepped in. Din lowered his hands.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the Jedi said, “but I spoke with Master Yoda.” Din felt his blood run cold. “He couldn’t tell me anything about where your son may have come from. As far as he knows, he was the last of his kind. But he did have some information that may be of interest to you.” Din relaxed, until he heard Skywalker’s next words. “Moff Gideon is in possession of the Darksaber.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Mando’a words are translated within the narrative; others are defined in the end notes.

Din never came to bed that night. After Skywalker’s announcement, he’d scrambled to his feet, reattached all of his armor and disappeared with the Jedi, leaving her and the kid alone. Mariana finally dozed off some time in the wee hours of the morning after lying awake with Ad’ika snuggled against her blissfully unaware as her thoughts raced wildly in circles.

She woke with a start, unsure for a moment where she was. Soft light crept through the chinks in the walls, but she couldn’t tell what time it was. Ad’ika was sound asleep, curled around Froggy. She got up and got dressed as carefully as possible so as not to disturb him. Outside the sun was just rising over the rim of the valley, and the air was chilly. She thought about going back for her jacket but didn’t want to risk waking the child. 

A drift of smoke rose from Skywalker’s building. When she opened the door, R2 beeped a greeting and Skywalker looked up from the workbench. “You just missed him,” he said. Mariana felt a rush of fear and it must have shown on her face because the Jedi went on quickly. “He just went to get something from his ship. He’ll be back soon.” He cleared off a stool and offered it to her. 

“I managed to talk him out of haring off after Gideon,” Skywalker continued, going back to work on a small piece of equipment. “All Master Yoda could tell me was that Gideon has the Darksaber; we don’t know where he is, what kind of manpower he has … we need intel before we can make any plans.”

“We?” she asked. 

Skywalker shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll want to do this alone, but I’m willing to help him prepare.” He raised the object in his hand. “For instance, I’m building him a lightsaber to practice with while I wait for Leia to get some info back to us. The best way to learn how to counter a weapon is to learn how to use it yourself.”

“What is this Darksaber? Why is Din so upset about Gideon having it?”

“It’s a unique lightsaber with a dark blade, as the name implies. It was created by Tarre Vizla, the first Mandalorian Jedi. Many of his clan members wielded it over the years, and eventually it passed to Sabine Wren, and then Bo-Katan Kryze. It is traditionally held by the leader of the Mando’ade, known as the Mand’alor. It disappeared during the Great Purge.”

Mariana understood. To Din, Gideon owning such a weapon was blasphemy. It was his duty as a Mandalorian to get it away from him … or die trying. “I’d better get back in case Ad’ika wakes up,” she said. “Let Din know I was looking for him when he gets back.”

Skywalker gave her a gentle smile. “I don’t think he meant to exclude you. He’s in warrior mode right now.”

Mariana smiled back. “I know. I’m not much use at fighting, so he doesn’t need me right now. He needs you.”

“He does need you, though. Every warrior needs someone or something to keep him human, to keep him from turning into a heartless killing machine. You and the child are what he’s fighting to protect. You are his light. Don’t forget that.”

***************  
Din returned to the ruined village with a heavy load of weaponry. If Skywalker was willing to teach him how to fight against a Jedi weapon, he wanted to practice with as many of his own weapons as possible. He hesitated over where to store them; obviously, he wanted them close at hand but it was out of the question to keep them in the same room as the kid, and even though he was certain he could trust the Jedi, he did not feel comfortable storing the weapons in the larger building. He finally settled on the ruin closest to his own campsite. It had a large hole in the roof, but as long as it didn’t rain heavily, his weapons cache shouldn’t be adversely affected.

As he was stacking the last item in the most protected corner, he felt someone approach. His hand strayed to his blaster, even though he knew it could only be Skywalker or Mariana.

“Good thing it’s me,” said the Jedi. He nodded at Din’s hand, hovering over the holster. “She’s upset enough at you already.”

Din sighed. He did not have time for this. “Is the lightsaber ready?,” he asked.

“Not yet. A few more hours. It’s delicate work.” Skywalker leaned casually against the doorframe. He was not going to let it go.

“Then you should get back to it,” Din said, harshly.

“Nope. I was up all night, if you recall. I think we both need some rest. Moff Gideon will still be there.”

Din scoffed. “And every moment he holds the Darksaber is another moment he desecrates the memory of the people of Mandalore. I don’t need rest; I need something to do.”

“Talk to Mariana,” Skywalker said. “Spend time with your son. Take a nap. Heck, take a walk and look for wildflowers. Anything but dwell on this.” He shook his head. “Anger leads to the Dark Side …”

Din cut him off. “Spare me your Jedi platitudes. I am a Mandalorian. We are warriors, not philosophers.”

Suddenly, Skywalker was in his face, his expression still calm, but with a hint of fire in his eyes. “They aren’t platitudes,” he said quietly. “And the Jedi have always been warriors. I’ve seen what happens to even the best of men when they let themselves be tempted by anger, fear … hate. The Dark Side destroyed my father and every friendship he ever had.”

Din tried to walk past the Jedi, but Skywalker stood firm. “You don’t know who my father is, do you?” he asked.

“I don’t care.”

“You should. My father was Darth Vader.”

That gave Din pause. Vader had been the Emperor’s right hand man. And Skywalker … “You killed your own father.”

“No,” Skywalker said firmly. “Palpatine killed my father. Or rather, Palpatine killed Darth Vader. The man who died in my arms was my father, Anakin Skywalker. He redeemed himself in the end, rather than turn me over to the Emperor.” His gaze searched Din’s visor and for a moment he could have sworn the Jedi was looking directly into his eyes. “Don’t make the mistake my father did. Don’t let your anger consume you. He … he lost his wife, he lost his chance to be a father to me and Leia, he lost so much. Don’t lose your family, Mr. Djarin. Don’t lose your soul.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Din alone in the darkened room. 

************  
Mariana was feeding Ad’ika some breakfast when she heard a tap at the door. Skywalker poked his head in. “He’s back. I’m going to take a break, catch some sleep.” He stifled a yawn. “Don’t let him bother me for at least three hours. Sit on him if you have to, but keep him out of my hair, okay?”

“I’ll try. No promises, though. He can be a bit stubborn.”

Skywalker laughed. “I’ve noticed that. And Mariana … don’t be too hard on him.”

“No promises, Master Skywalker.”

“My friends call me Luke,” he said with a smile as he disappeared from the doorway. 

She finished feeding Ad’ika, taking a few nibbles herself. She didn’t have much appetite today. When she heard footsteps approaching, her stomach fluttered and she regretted eating even that much. Confrontation had never been her strong suit. “Let’s hope Daddy’s in a good mood,” she whispered. Ad’ika nodded solemnly. “Da,” he agreed.

Din stepped inside. “Good morning,” he said flatly.

“Good morning,” she said carefully. “Have you eaten?”

“Not hungry.”

He sat down at the table, pulled out his blaster, and started cleaning it. Mariana shared a look with Ad’ika, took a deep breath, and pulled out the other chair. She reached out and slid the blaster away from him. His helmet tilted up sharply and she braced herself for a rebuke, but he simply said, “What?”

“I should be asking you that. Or rather, you should have told me without me having to ask. But no, you just took off without a word and I had to ask Luke what the hell is going on.” She shook her head and reached out to place a hand on his glove. “I was worried. You can’t just … it’s not just _you_ anymore, Din.”

“I know,” he said quietly, laying his other hand on top of hers, sandwiching her fingers between warm leather. “Skywalker already told me off. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I have to do this, Mar’ika. Please understand.”

“I do,” she said, biting on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. He’d never used that form of her name before; she knew enough Mando’a to know it was an intimate term of endearment. “I really do. I wouldn’t try to stop you. But I would appreciate being kept in the loop.”

He nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “I promise I won’t do anything without telling you first.”

“That’s all I ask,” she whispered. It was all she would ask of him, but it wasn’t all she wanted.

****************  
The lightsaber felt strange in Din’s hand. He knew how to use a sword — Mandalorians knew how to use just about every weapon ever conceived — but because the blade wasn’t physically there, it felt off. There was no weight to it, so it was impossible to feel the blade. Every other weapon he’d ever used felt like an extension of his hand, of his body, but this … this was different.

“Try to feel the blade,” Skywalker said. 

“I can’t. I can see it but I can’t feel it. There’s no balance.”

The Jedi smiled. “Don’t feel the _weight_ of the blade, feel the _essence_ of it.”

Din scoffed. “I’m not a Jedi.”

“You don’t have to be. Everyone can sense the Force to some degree. When someone walks into a room, even though you can’t see them, you know they’re there.”

“Because I hear their footsteps, I sense a change in the light level as they block the doorway, I feel the air currents shift … those are all physical things.”

“But you don’t _think_ about them, you just _feel_ them. The Force exists all around us, within us. Sometimes it manifests in physical ways. Sometimes it doesn’t.”

Din lifted the hilt again. He could see the vibrating pulse of the blue laser in front of him, but it felt no different with the saber switched on than it had when it was off. He moved the blade through the air and heard its hum, but he couldn’t feel it moving through the air. If he had to keep his eye on his weapon every second to keep from chopping off his own toes, it was worse than useless. He was used to using weapons without thinking, as easy as breathing. This was clunky and awkward and …

Skywalker swung his own blade and Din parried automatically. The two beams of light vibrated against each other, shearing sparks into the air. “See,” the Jedi said with a grin. “Don’t think about it. Let the Force guide you.”

He lowered his weapon. Din took a step back, nodding. “Yes. It’s like when I was little, before … before I became a Mandalorian. I had … friends … and we played pretend. We didn’t have swords or blasters, just our imagination.”

Skywalker nodded eagerly. “Exactly! And even though none of you could see the weapons, you knew when they clashed, or when you got a direct hit, or when you missed entirely. You felt it.”

Din took a moment to absorb the lesson. It went against everything he had been taught, but it felt right. It wasn’t just about physics and leverage and strike angles and velocity; it wasn’t about practicing endlessly until muscle memory took over. It was about being aware of everything around him, not narrowing his focus to the task at hand. 

“How do you do it?” He asked.

“Do what?” 

“Feel so _much_ , all the time.” Din had learned to suppress feelings, to shove them aside until a more convenient time, or to lock them away entirely. Life was easier without distractions.

“What’s the point of living if you don’t feel the life around you?” Skywalker waved his hand around, indicating the landscape around them. They were further down the valley from the village, in a clearing beside the small stream that had carved the valley long ago. Trees and shrubs grew along the water and there were a few bright yellow flowers growing among the grasses. Birds and insects swooped around the meadow. Just a moment ago, it had simply been a convenient spot to spar. Now it was a world unto itself.

“I see your point,” Din conceded. “But how do you keep from being distracted? How do you keep your focus?”

“Choice. Each and every moment, you choose what to focus on. If I need to fight, I focus on my opponent, his weapon, anything in the area that can be used to my advantage or to his. But if I don’t need to fight at that precise moment, I can relax my focus, take in the bigger picture, remember _why_ I’m fighting. And if I’m safe, with friends or allies, I can relax even further and meditate, let the Force itself lead my thoughts.” He laughed. “It’s not always profound, Mr. Djarin. I’ve spent plenty of time daydreaming about what I’m going to do the next time I see my sister, what we’re going to eat, what gift I should bring for Ben, wondering if Han’s gotten a hold of any of that Corellian reserve that we’ve all learned not to ask questions about …”

Din took the not so subtle hint. “You think I’m obsessing about Gideon. You think I should be spending more time with Mariana and Ad’ika. And I’m trying. I am.”

“But …”

“But I need to do this, Skywalker. I can’t explain it. I want to get it over with, finish it one way or the other. I can’t move forward, I can’t go back …”

The Jedi clapped a hand on Din’s armored shoulder. “Be patient. We’ll be able to move forward with a plan soon enough. It’s entirely possible you won’t survive this fight, Din. We do our best but sometimes it’s not enough, sometimes the Dark Side wins. It’s temporary, in the grand scheme of things, but that’s no consolation to those we leave behind. Cherish this moment of peace, my friend. And don’t be afraid to move forward.”

He clipped his lightsaber to his belt and walked away, pausing to pick a flower before he disappeared into the trees.

_I liked you better when you were the enemy_ , Din thought ruefully. He clipped his own lightsaber to his belt and took a moment to soak in the beauty of the meadow. Then he followed the Jedi into the trees, heading back toward his family. 

**************  
Mariana tried to concentrate on her data pad, but she knew Luke had gotten a message from his sister and she was afraid of what that meant. Din had been sparring with the Jedi for several hours each day, and even though he’d made a point to spend the same amount of time with her and Ad’ika, she knew he was itching to go after Gideon. 

Ad’ika was singing a little nonsense song to Froggy in the corner, but he suddenly stopped and pricked his ears toward the door. Mariana put down her pad and swallowed hard. 

Din appeared in the doorway and she instantly knew from his posture what he was going to say. “Gideon is on Bardos. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can get the Crest ready.”

She closed her eyes briefly, then looked back up at him. “Okay.” She’d hoped he’d give her more warning that this, but she understood why he wanted to leave immediately. 

“The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be back,” he said quietly as he crossed the room to sit across from her at the table.

“I know.” Ad’ika toddled over and Din picked him up, cuddling him in his lap. 

“I will come back,” Din insisted.

“You don’t know that.” She hated herself for saying it but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to support him so badly, but she was terrified that they were going to lose him.

“True enough,” he admitted. He pulled off his gloves and reached out to take her hand in his, cradling Ad’ika against his chest with the other. “But I still have to go.”

She sighed. “I know. I don’t like it but I know.” She lifted his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss against his wrist, like that very first kiss that seemed simultaneously to have happened only yesterday and a thousand years ago. “Can’t we come with you?”

He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. If I fail … Gideon can _not_ get his hands on our son. I can’t risk bringing him.”

It was stupid, but she said it anyway. “Then leave him here with Luke. Let me come with you. I know I’m no good in a fight, but … if you fail … at least we’ll have had that much more time together.” She tried to hold back the tears but there were too many.

“Mar’ika,” he said, wiping her tears away with his thumb. “I can’t leave him without the protection of his clan.”

“You’re going to do that anyway,” she retorted. “You’re a clan of two, remember?” It was petty and mean, but she couldn’t help it.

“Clan of three,” he said quietly.

“What?”

He sat Ad’ika down on the ground beside his feet. “We haven’t said the _riduurok_ out loud, but we said it in our hearts long ago, _cyar'ika_.” He reached up to undo the locks that held his helmet in place. Her heart began to pound. “I think a wife has the right to see her husband’s face,” he went on a bit unsteadily as he pulled the helmet off and placed it carefully on the table.

She couldn’t speak. She knew this face, she’d felt it a thousand times in the dark, knew the shape of his lips, his nose, that mustache that tickled when he kissed her, but stars! To finally see his eyes. To see the emotion that welled in their warm brown depths. She would never have asked for this, never pushed him for this, but it was what she’d hoped and dreamed for. 

“I will come home to you,” he said firmly. “I have to do this, for the Mando’ade who saved me, but I promise you, when I am done, my life will have one meaning only: to cherish you, _riddur_. _Aliit ori'shya tal'din_.”

_Family is more than blood_. The words rang in her ears. “I’ll hold you to that promise, _riddur_ ,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him gently. “And we’re having a proper wedding when you get back. Rings and everything.”

“Whatever you want, _cyar’ika_ ,” he murmured against her cheek. He kissed her softly, then pulled away. “But now, I have to go.” He picked up his helmet, but hesitated before putting it back on. She picked up Ad’ika and held him up. 

“Kiss Daddy goodbye,” she said. The child leaned forward, touching Din’s face gently. “ _Buir_ ,” he said. Then he reached out for Mariana’s face. “ _Buir_ ,” he said again, touching her with his other tiny hand. “ _Ad_ ,” he said finally, touching himself on the chest.

“That’s right,” she said shakily. “Father. Mother. Son.”

“ _Aliit_ ,” the child said firmly. _Family_.

Din crushed them both in a fierce embrace, gave her one last exquisite kiss and slipped his helmet back on. Then he was gone.

Mariana sat down on the bed with Ad’ika. There was so much to say and no words to say it, so she just held him close and stroked his fuzzy ears. He snuggled against her, finally falling asleep. After a while, she heard a tap at the door.

“How are you doing?” Luke asked.

“About as well as you can expect considering my husband just flew off to almost certain death,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Husband?”

“Yeah, apparently we’ve been married for a while. Of course, I can’t complain too much about not being told; I have the feeling he just found out, too.”

“Mandalorian culture is weird,” Luke chuckled. “But seriously, are you okay with this?”

“Yes,” she said. “I am. I’m not happy about it, but I’m okay with it. Don’t worry about me. Worry about him.”

Luke shook his head. “I’m not worried about him. He’s ready for this. I think this may be what he was always meant to do.”

Mariana groaned. “Not you, too. Why do men always have to have some grandiose destiny? Why can’t you be content just to be happy?”

“Sometimes you have to earn the right to ‘just be happy,’’’ Luke said. “And sometimes you earn that right for everyone else and make do with whatever’s left over for yourself.” He cleared his throat, then went on. “Anyway, if you need anything, just let me know.”

“I will,” she said. Luke left and she slid down on the bed so she was curled around her sleeping child. “There’s only one thing we need right now,” she whispered to him, “and we’re just going to have to wait for him to come back to us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a words (according to mandoa.org)
> 
> cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart  
> riddurok = love bond, specifically between spouses - marriage agreement  
> riddur = partner, spouse, husband, wife


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A showdown with Moff Gideon and some domestic fluff. Notes on Mando’a terms at the end.

Din locked in the coordinates for Bardos and sat back in the pilot’s seat. It had been a long time since he had been alone on the ship and it felt … wrong. Years he’d spent alone in this ship, or similar ones, traveling from one job to the next, and it always felt right but now he realized how lonely he had been. He glanced over at the co-pilot’s seat, remembering the time Ad’ika had sat there pressing buttons until he’d had to put the kid in his lap to keep him from sending the ship spinning out of control. Or the many times that Mariana had sat there beside him, not talking, just being there, keeping him company as they soared through the vastness of cold, dark space.

He knew he should be concentrating on the mission ahead of him, but it would be several hours before he reached his destination and he couldn’t make any firm plans until he’d gotten eyes on the situation, so he indulged himself. He closed his eyes and thought back over his conversation with Mariana. Had he done the right thing? Every word he’d said was true; he knew in his heart that she was his _riddur_ , his wife, his soulmate. But should he have waited? Was it selfishness that had driven him to remove the helmet, a desire to finally see her face as he kissed her … or was it fear that this might be their only chance to look each other in the eyes?

He took off his helmet and sat it on the dashboard in front of him. The sleek lines of beskar reflected the lights in a kaleidoscope of colors. He rubbed his hand over his face, through his hair, trying to scrub away the doubts. “I will come back, _cyar’ika_ ,” he whispered. He hoped he was still telling the truth.

*********************  
Bardos was a temperate planet. Leia’s intel had placed Gideon in a medium-sized city on one of the southern continents, so Din landed the Razor Crest behind a low range of hills a few miles from the city limits. His binoculars allowed him a decent view of the layout, and more importantly, revealed a number of suspiciously Imperial looking ships in the spaceport on the western edge.

Luke had offered him R2D2 for reconnaissance, and now Din wished he’d taken the Jedi up on the offer. The droid was annoying, but had proved itself harmless, and it would have made things a lot easier if he could get eyes on the Imp movements without risking exposing himself. _Di’kut_ , he admonished himself. He’d just have to do his best to avoid notice until he was ready to reveal his presence.

He found a surveillance spot on the roof of a warehouse near the spaceport and monitored the situation until he had a pretty good idea of where the troopers were going. Not all of them were in armor, but they all seemed to be regular Storm Troopers, not Death Troopers, which was one bit of good luck. They were visiting several parts of the city, but one group, always in armor, always in perfect step, kept returning to the same building, a moderately grand private house surrounded by a wall topped with durasteel spikes. He watched for four days, making sure he had a good grasp of their routine.

He returned to the Razor Crest and prepared his weapons. Blasters, vibroknife, rifle, the last of his Whistling Birds, flamethrower, grappling hooks … his usual arsenal. Last, but not least, he clipped the borrowed lightsaber to his belt. He was ready. 

Before he left the ship, he took one last look around, just in case. 

********************  
It had been a week since Din left, and Mariana was getting jumpy. Every time she heard Luke or R2 come anywhere near her little house, she was certain there had been a message. She knew that Leia’s operatives were keeping an eye on Bardos but so far they’d heard nothing other than a brief confirmation that the Razor Crest had been spotted on the ground near the city where Gideon was believed to be.

She tried to keep busy, but there wasn’t much to do. Luke had already retrieved everything from the caves that there was to be found, and without proper archival tools, there wasn’t much they could do with the manuscripts at the moment without risking further deterioration. Ad’ika took up some of her time, but he was more subdued than usual, content most of the time to sit quietly and play with Froggy and Ball and the blocks. 

“I’m going to the settlement to pick up some more supplies,” Luke said on the morning of the ninth day. “It’s a short flight. I’ll leave R2 here to keep you company.”

She heard the roar of his X-wing as it lifted off from the landing pad hidden behind the trees on the far rim of the valley. Knowing she was alone, she indulged in a good cry. It was foolish; crying didn’t do anything, wasn’t going to make Din come back any sooner, but it helped ease the anxiety and pain a little. She hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d become to his stoic presence during the day. She knew she missed his warmth at night, his voice softly buzzing in her ear as he whispered secrets and stories that were for her alone. But now she missed the simple fact of knowing he was _here_. 

When Luke returned, there was a smallish transport craft with him. R2 beeped excitedly but Mariana wasn’t sure if it was a positive or negative reaction to the visitor. _I really need to learn some Binary_ , she thought.

A tall humanoid with a reddish cast to its skin and long, intricately braided black hair followed Luke down the path from the landing pad. Behind them came two droids: one a basic mag-lev transport droid and the other a slightly battered bipedal droid with an impressive array of extra arms.

“Mariana, meet Klev,” Luke said, indicating the alien. “They are from the settlement.”

Klev extended a hand and made a complicated gesture. Mariana wasn’t sure what to do in response and was relieved when Klev laughed. “Sorry, I am not used to human greeting rituals. I believe you make do with a simple handshake?”

“Yes,” she said, taking the alien’s hand. It was warmer than she expected, and slightly furred. 

“Female, correct?” 

“Yes,” Luke said. “The Florianas have only one gender,” he explained. “When they found out you were here, they had to get a look for themselves.”

“You make it sound so voyeuristic, Master Skywalker,” Klev said. “I am simply curious about other species. Here on this continent we do not get the volume of offworld visitors that is common on other parts of the planet. I would have come visiting sooner if I had known that the other male was going to depart.” They inclined their head toward Mariana. “We do not have mated pairs in my species, and I would have liked to observe your interactions.”

Luke stifled a laugh, and Mariana shot him a look. “Now _that_ sounds voyeuristic, Klev,” he said. 

“I meant no harm,” Klev said quickly. “I did not mean _that_ type of interaction, of course I would respect the privacy of the human mating process …”

“It’s okay,” Mariana said before things got even more awkward. “I’m sorry you couldn’t meet my husband, but hopefully he’ll be back soon.”

Klev inclined their head again and was about to speak when their eyes widened and they gasped. “What .. what is this creature?” They said. Mariana turned to see Ad’ika in the doorway with Froggy in his hand. She picked him up and turned back to Klev.

“This is my son, Ad’ika,” she said proudly. “He’s adopted, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Interspecies adoption,” Klev said with delight. “Humans are full of surprises.”

The bipedal droid stepped forward, its voice vaguely female. “I would like to examine it if I may. I have not encountered this species before.”

Mariana took an involuntary step back. “Do not be afraid of RN-42,” Klev said. “It is a nurse droid and responsible for the health and well-being of those in this section of the continent.”

The droid extended one of its many arms. “You may call me FourTwo. When I learned there were new life forms in my sector, I was compelled to check in.”

Mariana gingerly shook the droid’s appendage. “Pleased to meet you, FourTwo,” she said. “Sorry if I seemed alarmed.”

“But maternal instinct compelled you to protect the child,” the droid said. “Understandable. Biological life forms are constrained by so many emotions.”

“Well,” said Luke. “I’m going to unpack the supplies, if anyone cares. You all have fun.”

Mariana shot him another look, but the Jedi innocently ignored her. Klev held out their hands. “May I hold them? Sorry … _him_. Male is _him_ , female is _her_ , correct?”

“Yes,” she said, handing Ad’ika over to the Floriana. FourTwo began to scan the child’s body with a variety of instruments. The two of them were fascinated and Ad’ika was eating it up. 

After several minutes, FourTwo swiveled its head toward Mariana. “Your turn,” it said.

“What?”

“It is my directive to care for the physical well-being of every sentient life form in my sector. I must examine you for any potential health issues that may need to be addressed during your stay here.”

She hadn’t had a medical checkup in .. well, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done more than patch up an injury. “Okay, what do I need to do?”

“Nothing. I shall complete all the necessary scans without your assistance.” The various arms began to move up and down as different scanners and devices beeped and whirred. “Hmm.”

“What does ‘Hmm’ mean?” Mariana asked nervously. FourTwo hadn’t said “Hmm” when examining Ad’ika.

“I require a blood sample,” the droid said. Two arms shot out, one taking a firm hold of her arm, the other revealing a small needle. With a sharp jab, it extracted a small amount of blood and popped it into a compartment in its torso.

“Ah, good,” the droid said after a few moments. “As I suspected. Nothing out of the ordinary for a human female in the first trimester.”

“Wait .. what?” Mariana stammered. Her heart was pounding in her ears.

“I detected some anomalous hormonal readings in my initial scan but blood analysis confirmed that they are consistent with hormonal fluctuations during pregnancy.”

Mariana shook her head. “No, that can’t be right. I’m not … I have a contraceptive implant.” Three years ago, her owner had fitted all his slaves with the implants after one of them had to stop working in the fields after getting pregnant. The implants were supposed to last for ten years. She’d been up front with Din about it the very first night, when he’d expressed some concerns about the consequences of their intimacy.

FourTwo made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “That thing?” The droid said. “It is useless. That type of implant was designed for species that have one or two breeding cycles per year. They are not very effective in humans, except in the first year after implantation. I assure you that you are most definitely pregnant.”

“This is good news, is it not?” Klev asked carefully. “This is the purpose of marriage, correct?”

“One of them,” she said shakily. “And yes, it is good news, it’s just … unexpected.” She laughed weakly. “Damn him, he’d better come back in one piece now, because I am not ready to raise _two_ kids by myself.” She took Ad’ika back into her arms. “Looks like we’re going to be a clan of four, kiddo.”

**************************  
“Come on, Gideon,” Din muttered. It had been almost two weeks since he’d arrived and so far Moff Gideon hadn’t taken the bait. After his reconnaissance, Din had entered the city from the eastern edge, not bothering to be discreet. He knew that rumors of a beskar-clad Mandalorian had to have reached Imperial ears by now. He occasionally saw a Storm Trooper on the streets, but no one had approached him yet. The inn he was staying at was not the most pleasant place, located directly behind the local stockyards, but it was cheap and offered a quick route out of town if necessary. 

He stood now at the intersection of two main roads not far from the house he was certain Gideon was holed up in. He hadn’t seen the man yet, though, and there was always room for doubt. If the Imps didn’t make a move soon, he’d have to give up, regroup and wait for more intel from Senator Organa. Or he could make the first move.

“ _Rangir_ ,” he finally said. _To hell with it_. He was tired of waiting. After one last weapons check, he strode down the street and approached the gates of the compound.

A Trooper immediately blocked his path, rifle cocked and ready. “State your business.”

“I’m here to see Moff Gideon,” Din said. “He has something I want.”

The Trooper cocked his helmet as if listening to a private comm. “Yes, sir,” he said after a moment. Straightening his helmet, he motioned with the gun for Din to enter the gates. “He’s been expecting you.”

Once inside the gates, Din let his awareness expand to take in the entire courtyard. He spotted several ways to get out, and several more places to avoid getting trapped in. He filed them away in case he needed them later.

A pair of smartly dressed Troopers with red pauldrons on their shoulders stepped forward, blasters in hand. “Come with us,” they said. “Hands where we can see them.”

Din held his hands up, away from his weapons. He thanked the stars they hadn’t insisted he disarm himself immediately, but he was under no illusion that he’d be allowed to walk right up to Gideon with his full complement of weapons. Three more Troopers fell in behind him, rifles trained on the back of his neck, and they entered the building itself.

Their boots echoed on the tiled floor of the hallway that led toward a set of interior doors inlaid in a variety of woods. It was an abstract pattern, angular and harsh. The lead Troopers pulled the doors open and ushered him into what had probably once been a dining hall or ballroom, a gathering place for guests. The far end held a raised dais, accessed by a short flight of shallow steps, at the top of which stood Moff Gideon, looking incredibly smug.

“Ah, Mr. Djarin,” he said, spreading his hands in welcome. “I wondered how long it would take you to give in and knock on my door.” He waved the extra Troopers out of the room, leaving only the two red pauldroned ones to guard the doors. “Please, come in. We can be civilized about this, if you’re smart enough.”

Din approached the dais. When he was about halfway there, Gideon raised one hand. “Far enough. Lay down your weapons before you come any closer.”

Din carefully removed his rifle, his blasters, the various knives and other small arms that hung ready, and laid them on the blue-tiled floor. Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Impressive,” he said. “You certainly came prepared. Pity you won’t get a chance to use any of them. A Mandalorian in battle is a thing of beauty.”

“What do you know about the beauty of _Manda_?” Din growled. He wanted to get Gideon off guard a bit, hoping he wouldn’t notice the lightsaber still clipped to his belt.

Gideon laughed. “More than you would expect,” he said. “But you said I have something you want. I wonder what that could be?” He slid a hand into the pocket of his uniform jacket. “Of course, you have something _I_ want, so perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

Although it pained him deeply, Din said, “I’m listening.”

Gideon withdrew his hand from his pocket. He held the hilt of a lightsaber in his hand. He lifted it in front of him and thumbed the switch. With a low hum, the blade sprang to life. Unlike the blade of Skywalker’s sabers, this one was black like the depths of space, with a faint white-hot glow around the edges.

“Do you recognize this blade, Mr. Djarin?” Gideon slowly rotated the weapon, admiring the strange perfection of it.

“ _Hair Dha Kad’au_ ,” Din said reverently. The Darksaber. It was real.

Gideon smiled. “Very good. And I’m sure the sight of it in my hand is an abomination to a devout man like yourself.” He stepped down one step, coming slightly closer, still holding the blade in front of him.

“You would be correct,” Din said. His hand itched to draw his own lightsaber but it was too soon. He shifted his weight, as if taking an unconscious half-step toward the Darksaber. He saw the corner of Gideon’s mouth curl, and knew he had a chance to make this work.

“And you have something that I want, something that I believe you are quite fond of, but that really has no practical use for you. This, on the other hand … with this, you would be a hero. The one to bring the fabled weapon of the Manda’lor back to the Mando’ade. A leader, someone to be reckoned with.”

“Also correct,” Din said. He used the retinal controls in his helmet to target the two Troopers with his Whistling Birds. He took another half-step forward.

“So, perhaps we can come to an understanding,” Gideon said. He lazily swung the blade back and forth, and Din tracked it with his helmet. 

“Perhaps we can,” Din said. He waited a moment, for Gideon to relax slightly, sure he had the upper hand. Then, he struck.

Activating the Whistling Birds with a glance, Din dropped to his knees and rolled aside. The Whistling Birds found their marks, taking out the two Troopers. Din freed his lightsaber and was on his feet, its blue blade sparking in front of him, before they hit the ground.

Gideon grinned. “Impressive,” he admitted, dropping into a fighting stance. “A Mandalorian using a Jedi weapon. You’ve been busy since we last met, Mr. Djarin.”

Din said nothing, just mirrored Gideon’s stance. He could be patient.

The doors behind him opened, the three remaining Troopers pouring in. Before they could aim their blasters, Din shook loose the small blaster he’d concealed beneath his left forearm plate and shot them all. Then he was facing Gideon again, saber still ready in his right hand.

Gideon’s smile faltered just a bit. “Shall we, then?” He said. He made a small bow toward Din, lunging forward at the last second to strike viciously with the Darksaber. Din parried and the two blades clashed with a horrific screech. Sparks flew as the blades slid against each other and both men stepped back to regroup. 

Again and again, Gideon attacked, and each time Din parried. The Moff was shorter, and lighter, but damn, he knew how to wield a blade. “You can hold me off for a while, Djarin, but this isn’t your forte. You know it, and I know it. This can only end one way.”

Din did not reply, concentrating on the fight. He saw a chance to make his own advance and took it, but Gideon parried, nearly spinning Din’s blade out of his hand. He dropped back into a defensive position, content to wait for the next opening. Gideon continued his attack, pressing Din back step by step, away from the dais. Every time Gideon advanced, Din gave ground, hoping to lull his opponent into making another small mistake.

Then Gideon lunged forward, narrowly missing the side of Din’s helmet. Din raised his lightsaber to parry and stepped back. His foot came down on one of his own discarded weapons and slipped out from under him. He went down on one knee and Gideon raised the Darksaber for a killing blow.

“Say goodbye, Mr. Djarin,” the Moff said. 

Din dropped his lightsaber and raised his hands in front of him. “Please,” he begged. “You can have the Child. You can keep the Darksaber. Just don’t kill me.”

Gideon laughed. “So the great Mandalorian warrior is a coward after all.” He raised his blade triumphantly. 

Din closed his eyes and lowered his arms, waiting for the final blow. As Gideon’s arm swung down, Din’s hand darted out, grabbed the lightsaber, thumbed it on and raised the blade into Gideon’s chest. The Moff gasped in disbelief as he felt the lightsaber strike home.

“I am not a coward, Moff Gideon,” Din said quietly. They were the last words the Imperial bastard ever heard.

Gideon’s body dropped to the ground, the Darksaber rolling away from his slack hand. Din switched off his lightsaber and began gathering his weapons, including the Darksaber. It would not be long before more Troopers arrived on the scene.

*******************  
“I know I said I’d try to get there for Ben’s birthday,” she heard Luke saying, “but Djarin’s not back yet. I can’t leave them alone.” The reply was muffled, and Mariana walked away. She’d heard enough. 

It had been over two weeks since Din left, and still no word. She was beginning to lose hope that he was coming back. Just two days ago, Leia’s operatives had reported that the Razor Crest was still in place outside the city and hadn’t moved since it landed.

She felt bad for Luke. He had finished his business here on Florian but was unable to leave. She knew he wanted to head back to Coruscant, to see his family, but he was stuck just as much as she was. Until they knew for sure if Din was coming back or not, they were both in limbo.

Ad’ika was napping and she’d taken the opportunity to go for a quick stroll. She tried to take a walk every day, sometimes with Ad’ika in tow, sometimes alone. FourTwo had advised her on proper prenatal care, and exercise was one of the many things the nurse droid had suggested. It still hadn’t quite sunk in that she was going to have a baby. In fact, she was still coming to terms with the fact that she and Din were _married_.

The Empire had taken away her family once and now that she’d finally found another one, that blasted Moff Gideon was trying to take it away, too. She swallowed her bitterness; Luke had warned her that hate and anger were not healthy emotions, but how could she not hate the ideology that had killed her parents, sent her into slavery, hunted down innocent children like Ad’ika and might leave her a widow before she’d even had a chance to really be a wife? 

She wandered down the trail toward the little meadow where Luke and Din had practiced fighting. There were more wildflowers blooming now, little blue ones scattered beneath the yellow ones and a few bright pink clusters here and there. She picked a bouquet for Ad’ika. They’d come here the other day and he’d enjoyed watching the insects buzzing around the flowers — and the little lizards that hunted the insects. She’d had to stop him from eating one, which had made him laugh and scamper away. She smiled at the memory and was straightening up when she heard the roar of an engine overhead. She looked up just in time to see a large silver ship drop toward the coast. The flowers fell from her hand and she began to run.

Luke was waiting with Ad’ika when she reached the village. “Go on,” he said. “We’re right behind you. But be careful!”

She dashed past him, but slowed as she reached the bottom of the steep trail. She couldn’t run up it but she began climbing as fast as she could, stumbling now and then but never quite losing her footing. She was out of breath and had a stitch in her side by the time she reached the top, but she only paused for a moment to look back and make sure Luke was following. He was, and she pressed onward across the scrubland.

The Razor Crest had settled down on nearly the same spot it had left two weeks ago. The engines were powered down by the time she reached it, but the ramp was still up. 

For a long moment, nothing moved. Then the ramp slowly began to lower. She held her breath until it touched the ground and Din appeared at the top of the ramp. Then she ran forward, fairly leaping into his arms. 

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,” he said, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I told you I’d come back.” 

Luke and Ad’ika arrived and she heard the child squealing, “Da!!!” Luke let him down and his little feet carried him up the ramp as fast as he could go. Din leaned down to scoop him up and pull him into the hug. 

“I take it you were successful,” Luke said after giving them a moment.

Din released her from his arms and handed Ad’ika over to her. He unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and tossed it over to the Jedi. “Thanks for the loan, but I won’t be needing this anymore. I have my own,” he said. He unclipped another saber and thumbed it on. A midnight dark blade shimmered into existence, like a rip in the fabric of the world.

“Congratulations, Mand’alor,” Luke said with a bow.

Din shook his head. “Not for long,” he said, shutting the blade off. “This isn’t meant for me.” 

They took their time walking back to the village. It was late in the day, and they all decided it made the most sense to spend one last night in the ruins and leave in the morning. Mariana could tell that Din was tired, even though he showed no outward signs of it and she was glad he’d get a chance to rest before they headed off planet.

Luke took Ad’ika with him into his building. “R2 and I will look after this little guy for a while,” he said. “And congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Djarin.” He winked before disappearing into the building.

“So,” said Din as they walked into their own building.

“So,” she said.

Din crossed to the table, sat down and began to strip off his armor. The helmet was first to come off and he ran his hand through his hair, which had been plastered down with sweat. It stood out in all directions, making him look like a little boy who’d just woken up from a very intense nap.

Mariana sank into the other chair and helped him undo the rest of the armor. They made a pile of beskar on the floor, but left the helmet and the Darksaber on the table.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.

He shook his head. “Not yet.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. His eyes were exhausted but happy. “We have plenty of time.”

She slid out of her chair and into his lap. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “This is nice,” he murmured. He sounded like he was ready to fall asleep at any moment.

“You’re tired,” she said. “You should lie down.”

“Hmm,” he said. “If we lie down, I won’t want to sleep.” The effect was spoiled by a yawn that threatened to split his jaw in two.

“Come on, _cyar’ika_. Come to bed.” She stood up and tugged at his hand. He stood reluctantly and she led him over to the bed. He sank down onto the mattress with a groan. She removed his boots and by the time she was finished, he was asleep. She kissed his forehead and tucked the blanket around his shoulders, before leaving the room.

She walked to Luke’s, where she found Ad’ika and R2 fiddling with something on the workbench that had a lot of different colored lights. “He’s making a toy for him,” Luke said. “To teach him Binary. I told him the kid can’t even speak one language properly yet, there’s no need to throw another one at him, but R2 insisted.” He tilted his head at her. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

“He’s asleep,” she said. “I’ll take Ad’ika back, give you and R2 a chance to pack everything up. I can talk to Din later. Right now he needs to rest.”

“Get some rest yourself,” Luke said. “Trust me, get it now, because you’re going to need it later.” He smiled. “I don’t think Han and Leia got a decent night’s sleep until Ben turned two. Those two are _not_ pretty when they are tired.”

She laid her hand against Luke’s cheek and pressed a quick kiss against the other one. “Thank you again, for everything,” she said. 

He shrugged. “It’s what we Jedi do. We help people.” He kissed her cheek. “Take care of that husband of yours. And may the Force be with you.”

***************************  
Din woke up with his face smashed into a pillow. He didn’t remember getting into bed. The last thing he clearly remembered was sitting at the table, leaning back against the wall, wrapping his arms around Mariana … he lifted his head a fraction of an inch and looked around the room.

Mariana and Ad’ika were packing things into their bags. Well, she was packing things, and Ad’ika was removing them. “Put that back,” she whispered. Ad’ika giggled. “Shh, we have to be quiet. Daddy’s asleep.”

“No, he’s not,” Din said, propping himself up on one elbow. He still felt a bit muzzy from sleep but at least he was able to focus on them properly.

“Da!” Ad’ika scrambled over the bed and into his arms. He lay back, settling the child on his chest. By the stars, he’d missed this.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked.

“About four, maybe five hours,” Mariana replied. She lay down beside them and started playing with his hair with one hand and stroking Ad’ika’s ear with the other. “From the looks of you, you need about ten hours more.”

“I didn’t sleep much while I was gone,” he admitted. 

“Still not ready to talk about it?”

“No.” He shifted onto his side so that Ad’ika lay between them and he was facing her. “Right now I just want to be here, with you, with my family.” He traced a finger down her face, tucking that ever errant strand of hair behind her ear again. “My clan of three.”

“Four,” she said.

“What?” He must be more tired than he thought. He mentally counted and came up with three again. “No, three. You, me, Ad’ika. Three.”

She took his hand and pressed it against her belly. “Nope. Four.” She leaned into his ear and whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

Din was suddenly wide awake. “Wait .. what? You said you had an implant …” He sat up, which made Ad’ika squeak indignantly.

“A crappy implant that wasn’t designed for humans. I was probably the cheapest one out there, knowing Toran.” She sat up and took his face in her hands. “The district nurse droid paid a visit while you were gone. It found out there were offworld visitors and one of its directives is to check out any health threats to the local population, so it gave me and Ad’ika a check up.” She kissed his nose. “That implant probably stopped working about a year after it was placed.”

Din took a moment to absorb this new information, then he smiled and kissed his wife. The Way ahead was even clearer now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Di’kut = idiot, useless individual, waste of space  
> Manda = the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit  
> Hair Dha Kad’au = my clumsy attempt to translate “the dark saber” into Mando’a


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cara Dune runs into an old friend and Din Djarin finds his Way.

Cara Dune made her way through the streets of Nevarro. As Greef Karga’s enforcer, it was a good idea to keep a high profile among the residents, just in case anyone got any ideas. So she made a point of taking a walk most days. Today, things seemed quiet and she was about to cut her walk short and head to the cantina for a cold drink. Then, she caught a glimpse of shiny armor and the day got interesting.

“I’ll be damned,” she said to herself, changing direction to head toward the man clad in beskar steel. It might not be her friend, but there was only one way to find out for sure. As she got closer, he turned to avoid a staggering freight droid and she saw the stylized mudhorn signet on his right pauldron. “Mando,” she laughed, speeding up.

She reached him in just a few strides and stepped in front of him to block his way. “Long time no see, Mando,” she said, unable to keep the smile off her face. Neither she nor Karga had heard from him in quite a while and it was good to see that he was still alive.

“Cara,” he said simply. _Same old Mando_ , she thought, then she noticed that he was not alone. A dark haired woman stood beside him, holding the little green kid that had caused so much trouble. The child waved at her, and Cara waved back, but Mando made no move to introduce the women. Cara raised an eyebrow, and then held out her hand.

“Cara Dune,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, Cara. I’m Mariana Djarin,” the woman said, shaking her hand. “As I’m sure you already know, my husband is a bit socially awkward.” She elbowed Mando in the side. He sighed.

“Uh, yeah,” Cara said, hoping she wasn’t looking too stunned. Mando had a wife? This was going to be a very interesting day. “I’d noticed.”

“Have you seen the Armorer recently?” Mando asked. Never one for small talk, that man.

“A week or two ago,” she replied. “She doesn’t come out much, but she stays in contact with me and Karga. I’m pretty sure her forge is in the same place.”

“Good,” Mando said. He turned to his wife ( _his wife_!) and said, “Do you want to go back to the Crest or should we find a room here in town? I’m not sure how long I’ll be and you probably shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself.”

“I do have my blaster,” she said. Mando tilted his helmet and Cara could just imagine the raised eyebrow that probably lurked under it. “I’m getting better,” Mariana protested weakly. “But yeah, maybe I should take Ad’ika back …”

“Hey, I can keep an eye on them for you, Mando,” Cara butted in. “I was just on my way to the cantina for a drink; we can hang out while you take care of business with the Armorer.”

“I might be some time …” he began.

“More time for your _wife_ to catch me up on what’s been going on since I last saw you,” Cara said, grabbing Mariana’s elbow with one hand and Mando’s with the other. She winked at him and heard another sigh. Stars, it was fun to mess with him again!

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll meet you there as soon as I’m finished.” He stroked the child’s ear and then tucked a stray strand of hair behind Mariana’s ear. “Don’t believe half of what Cara tells you, _cyar’ika_. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He adjusted the knapsack on his back up onto his shoulder and walked off, leaving the two women alone. Cara tucked her arm through Mariana’s and led her in the direction of the cantina. Once inside, she ordered a drink at the bar (Mariana declined) and claimed her favorite booth, one that gave her a clear view of the entrance. She slid into the seat, keeping her back against the wall. Things were much quieter now that the Imperial scum had been routed out, but she’d learned long ago to never let her guard down. The server slid her drink in front of her.

“So,” she said, leaning forward. “Tell me everything, Mrs. Djarin.”

Mariana laughed, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “It all started when he bought me at a slave market …”

Cara nearly choked on her ale. “He _bought_ you?” 

Mariana shrugged. “I told you he’s socially awkward,” she said.

Cara relaxed in her seat. She had the feeling she was going to like this woman.

************  
The sewers were much the same as he remembered them, but quieter. The covert had never been large, but there had always been some indication of their presence in the tunnels. Now, his footsteps echoed as he made his way toward the Armorer’s forge.

He heard the roar of the fire and the clink of tools long before he reached it. Despite the noise, the Armorer turned immediately when he stepped into the doorway. “I did not expect to see you again so soon,” she said. “Has the foundling been returned to its family?”

“He has found his home,” Din said. “I have brought you something.” He pulled the Darksaber out of his knapsack and held it out toward her.

It was hard to surprise the Armorer, but he felt sure this had done the trick. She tilted her helmet, taking a long moment to inspect the weapon.

“The Darksaber?”

“Yes. I recovered it from Moff Gideon. He is … no longer a threat.”

“Then you are the Mand’alor.” The Armorer bowed her head to him.

“No,” he said. “I’m giving it to you.”

She straightened. “A weapon such as this cannot be given away. It must be taken.”

“Then take it,” he said. 

For a long moment, she stood silently, watching him. Neither of them moved, and then she swung her arm, knocking the saber from his hand and catching it before it hit the ground. He stayed still.

“Now I am the Mand’alor,” said the Armorer, thumbing the blade on. The dark blade hummed as she tested the weight of it in her hand.

“And I am no longer a Mandalorian,” Din said, reaching up to unlatch his helmet. In an instant, the Armorer turned off the blade and grabbed his hands.

“Do you know what you are doing?” She asked intently. “If you remove the helmet, you can never put it back on.”

“By that measure, I haven’t been a Mandalorian for a long time,” he said, shrugging off her hands and pulling off the helmet. “My son has seen my face; my wife has seen my face. Now the world can see it, too.”

“This is not the Way,” the Armorer said.

“It is not your Way, but it is mine,” Din said. He began to remove his armor and lay it on the work table beside the forge. “I no longer have a need for armor. Use the beskar for the Foundlings. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” the Armorer said, softly, picking up one of the pieces. “Are you sure?”

Din nodded. “Beskar belongs to the _Mando’ade_ , not a _dar’manda_ like me.” He continued to remove his armor, stacking the plates neatly. When he was finished, he looked up at her. “I only ask for this: make me two rings. I promised my _riddur_ a wedding ring.” He pulled a bit of string out of his pocket. “I measured her finger; you can measure mine. I trust no one else to make this for me.”

The Armorer took the piece of string and curled it around her own gloved finger. “Small,” she said.

“Her heart is big,” he said.

“I will do as you ask, but I insist you keep more than two rings worth of beskar.” She pulled out the pauldron that held the Mudhorn signet. “Keep this as well, for your son. As a remembrance of you when you are long gone and he still continues. His species is long-lived, is it not?”

“Yes,” Din said, taking the pauldron and tucking it into his knapsack. “And thank you.”

“You have returned the Darksaber to the Mando’ade. You have made me the Mand’alor. It is I who should thank you.” She picked up his helmet and turned it in her hands. “Keep this as well. Hang it on your wall. You can tell everyone you took it from a great Mandalorian warrior.”

Din slipped the helmet into the knapsack as well. “How long will it take to make the rings?” He asked quietly.

“Not long,” she said, already selecting a piece of armor to take the beskar from. “An hour. Less if you stop talking.”

Din chuckled. “I’ll just get out of your way, then.” He slipped away to change into the civilian clothes at the bottom of his knapsack. He’d walked into the tunnels a Mandalorian; he was going to walk out as himself.

*******************  
“Are you sure you don’t want a beer?” Cara said, waving the barkeeper over to refill her own cup.

“It’s tempting, but I can’t,” said Mariana said with a small smile. Cara was puzzled for a moment — which had nothing to do with the three beers she’d already consumed — until the coin dropped.

“Oh! Oh. Way to go, Mando,” she said. This was turning out to be one of her favorite days ever. She was going to have so much ammunition to razz Mando with. And Mariana … she could see why Mando had fallen for her. The woman was smart, a bit sassy, and very, very funny. 

“So, tell me,” Cara asked. “Does the helmet stay on …”

Mariana smacked her arm. “No more drinks for you.”

Cara laughed. She’d deserved that. “Okay, okay, but seriously? What’s under all that beskar?”

Before Mariana could answer, Cara’s attention was drawn by a newcomer to the cantina. The man seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place his face. He surveyed the room as he came in, then headed straight for their booth. Cara sat up, suddenly alert. He didn’t look threatening, no visible weapons, but she hadn’t stayed alive this long by trusting anyone.

Before she could make a move toward her blaster, the green kid started bouncing up and down on his seat. “Da! Da! Da!”

The man laughed, a broad smile crinkling his brown eyes, as he slid into the booth next to Mariana and pulled the kid into his lap.

“Mando?” Cara gasped. 

He slid one arm around Mariana’s shoulders. “Not anymore, Cara,” he said. “I’m just Din Djarin now.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his fist. He opened it to reveal two shiny silver rings, one slightly larger than the other. The kid’s eyes widened and he made a grab for them, but Mando (no, _Djarin_ ) moved his hand out of reach.

“Uh uh, these are for Mommy and Daddy,” he said. “I’ve got some beskar for you in the bag.”

The kid pouted a little, but then gave Cara a sneaky little grin. She gave him a salute with one finger while she finished her drink.

Djarin slipped the smaller ring on Mariana’s finger, and she slid the other onto his. “Aww, how disgustingly romantic,” Cara said when she saw the dopey grins on their faces. They both shot her a look that was so identical she lost it. “Oh, stars, you two were made for each other,” she laughed.

This was definitely her favorite day. Ever.


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Checking in on the Djarin family a few years later.

Professor Mariana Djarin shooed the final student out of the lecture hall. “I promise I will hold my usual office hours tomorrow,” she told the harried young man. Her guest waited patiently, but Mariana knew the woman did not have unlimited time. Locking the door, she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed down the hallway.

“Sorry about that, Senator,” she said. “First-years tend to panic near the end of term.”

The older woman shrugged. “No matter. I have several hours before my flight is scheduled to leave, and even if I’m late, I don’t think they’d dare take off without me.”

Mariana laughed. No, she did not imagine anyone would dare to leave Senator Leia Organa behind. They left the university building and hopped on one of the transport speeders that looped between the university and the nearby residential block. It was only a short ride to the professor’s home, a garden apartment on the ground floor of the faculty building. 

As Mariana unlocked the front door, she heard a loud squeal, followed by giggles and a crash. The door opened to reveal her husband on the floor, all three kids piled on top of him. “Ahh, they’ve got me! Save me, _cyar’ika _!”__

__“No, Mama, don’t save him, he’s the big bad bantha monster and we caught him!”_ _

__“No! Mubhorn!”_ _

__“Oh, yeah, the Mudhorn! We smashed him down! Just like the real one, right, Ad’ika?”_ _

__Din looked up and realized Mariana was not alone. “Oops.” He sat up, spilling children all over the floor. “Heads up, kiddos, we’ve got company.”_ _

__“Senator, may I present my husband, Din, and our children, Ad’ika, Cabur, and Mirdala.”_ _

__Din rose to his feet and shook the Senator’s hand. “A pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am,” he said._ _

__“Hi,” said Cabur with a wave, his usual exuberant five year old self. Mirdala, just over two, was still wary of strangers and merely peeked out from behind her father’s leg. Ad’ika, the oldest, smallest, and greenest, raised a three-fingered hand in salute._ _

__“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Djarin,” Senator Organa said. “And please, call me Leia.”_ _

__The adults sat down on the couch, while the kids quickly returned to their game on the floor._ _

__Leia smiled. “I just dropped Ben off with his uncle for training,” she said wistfully. “I thought while I was in the area, and had a pocket of free time, I’d stop by and finally meet you all in person.”_ _

__“How is Luke?” Mariana asked. She had a soft spot for the Jedi; she’d helped him with some research a few times over the last few years._ _

__They chatted about this and that for a while, Leia watching Ad’ika carefully the entire time. Eventually, the kids all crawled up onto the couch with them, fighting over who got to sit in Daddy’s lap, as usual. And as usual, Mirdala won because she was the youngest and the most likely to throw a tantrum if she didn’t get her way._ _

__Leia pulled Ad’ika into her own lap, leaving Cabur to squish himself between his parents. “You’re not going to take him to the Jedi place, are you?” He asked her._ _

__“No,” she said. “He won’t be ready for a long time. My own son just went there but he’s a lot older than you.”_ _

__“Ad’ika’s older than me. He’s even older than Daddy.”_ _

__“But he doesn’t grow up as fast as we do,” Mariana reminded him. “It will be a long, long time before Ad’ika is grown up enough for that.”_ _

__Cabur nodded. “Yeah, I know. Maybe when I’m Daddy’s age.” He leaned forward to address Leia more directly. “I’m gonna take care of him when I grow up, and maybe if I have some kids they’ll take care of him too. We don’t know how fast he’ll grow up. Mamma said he’s a diff’rent species. So we have to take care of him until he can do it himself. ‘Cause he’s our clan.”_ _

__“Mubhorn,” said Mirdala, pointing up at the wall above the couch, where a piece of beskar steel hung, adorned with a stylized mudhorn head._ _

__“Yes,” said Din, tousling his daughter’s hair. “We are Clan Mudhorn. And this is our Way.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on the kid’s names (Mando’a):
> 
> Cabur = guardian, protector  
> Mirdala = clever, intellectual


End file.
